


From the Shadows

by Ophelia_Black



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Marriage of Convenience, Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Royal Court Politics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2019-07-17 09:10:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16092518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophelia_Black/pseuds/Ophelia_Black
Summary: The Shadow Invasion left wounds across both Hyrule and the Twilight Realm, and neither Zelda nor Midna are eager to face the task of binding them up. Old prejudices and weaknesses are laid bare, and the idea is posed of reuniting the two realms to prosper together. Is their plan a folly born of desperation, or the most revolutionary undertaking either kingdom has seen in centuries?





	1. Zelda - 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Bella_Mione_Cissy.Twain for giving me Zelda/Midna as a prompt, and for discussing a preliminary plotline with me :)  
> I've never written for Zelda before (or read much of it, tbh), and as much as I've enjoyed writing Harry Potter before, I'm excited to try something new! I have the full plot outlined, but there don't seem to be too many Midzel fics out (or perhaps I'm just spoiled for choice with HP), so if there's anything anyone wants to see, you can always shoot me a message.  
> -Ophelia

“Do not think this ends here… The history of light and shadow will be written in blood!” Ganondorf’s words certainly are impressive, but perhaps would be even more so if it was not his own blood currently penning this chapter. The princess and the Hero watch in silence as he seems to struggle with himself, then looks down at his hand to see the Triforce of Power abandon him. Though Zelda had been hoping and waiting for this moment, she cannot suppress the thrill of fear that flashes down her spine, imagining her own Triforce vanishing like his did. The desire to tear off her glove and check her hand for the sacred triangle grips her for a moment, but it fades, just as the light in Ganondorf’s eyes do. All is still.

The relief of victory washes over the pair, and the princess bows her head. It doesn’t taste as sweet as she had expected, not while knowing how Midna had sacrificed herself to send Link and Zelda to safety, to launch an attack on Ganondorf that had not been as final as she had planned. _After she had already saved me, too. We lost Midna, we lost the castle and everyone in it, and who knows who else died in the attack. What does the town look like? How have my_ citizens _suffered? Do they blame me?_ Guilt for the last thought comes hard on the heels of the thought itself, and Zelda chastises herself for being selfish. _People have died, two realms left in ruin, and you’re worried about the public’s opinion of you?_ Movement catches her eye, distracting her from what’s shaping up to be a lengthy internal tirade.

She sees Link turn away from Ganondorf, distracted by something over the hill. The light spirits, all four of them, converge upon a tiny figure. Her heart lifts. _It can’t be, it’s only because you were just thinking of her. They’ve come to retrieve the Light Arrows, that’s all…_ The spirits turn to face Link, acknowledging the boy who had gone through such trials to save them from twilight, and vanish. The figure remains, sitting alone.

Link sees her too; a smile breaks through the shock on his face and he rushes up towards her. Zelda is slow to follow, lost in disbelief. She hears Link’s shout of joy, and a familiar high-pitched laugh, and crests the hill to see him launch himself at a tall, slim figure, knocking them both to the ground in a hug that threatens to never end. Zelda is quite certain that she’s never seen this woman before, but she knows the voice shouting at Link even if she doesn’t recognize the grinning face. “Midna?”

Midna looks up at the sound of her voice, her narrow eyes bright with mischief, and she draws a jagged black shard out of thin air. Pressing it to Link’s arm, he has a split second to frown at her before being transformed into a wolf. With no arms to wrap around her, the Twili easily extracts herself from his grip and stands. “So good to see you, princess,” she says lightly, as if nothing unusual had just happened. It feels unnatural to Zelda to hear her voice coming from a different face, even more so than to watch a human be turned into a beast before her eyes. Her surprise must have shown, for Midna smiles widely and spins in a circle, showing off her new (old?) body. “Zant’s curse was not broken with his death because it was Ganondorf’s power holding it in place. But now…”

The wolf gives an annoyed huff, sitting up and pawing at her hand. Midna looks down at him. “Did you need something, Link?” she asks sweetly. He growls in response, and she laughs, then presses the strange black artifact to him again. A moment later, the Hylian is on two feet again, a scowl on his face as he pointedly turns his back to her. Surprise flashes across Midna’s face, but she recovers with a devious grin. Zelda steps forward, holding her hands up between them.

“We should return to the castle. Let’s get your sword, Link, and go announce the good news to the townspeople.” He and Midna nod, and Link leads the way back down the hill, to where the lifeless Ganondorf still stands, the Master Sword buried in his chest. They stand around him, silent. Link moves to retrieve the blade, but halts a step away, his arm outstretched towards the hilt. _Is he going to… just yank it out?_ Despite the terrible actions of the evil man before them, such an act seems cruel, and Link seems to struggle with the idea as well. Midna looks carefully between the two men, then snaps her fingers. Link gives a cry of alarm as the sword vanishes in a swirl of twilight, only to reappear on the grass before him. He snatches it up at once, carefully inspecting the blade for damage. Midna looks amused.

“How many times have I warped you around Hyrule like that, Link? Surely you know it won’t do any harm.” Link does not reply until he is satisfied with his inspection, reverently sheathing the blade again. It is the first time Zelda has seen him speak, and she misses the first part of his response, having been watching his face and not his hands.

‘-how important this blade is. If lost, it cannot be replaced,’ he finishes. Movement catches his eye, and he turns away from the princesses to chase after his horse, who had made an appearance across the plain.

Midna frowns. “Neither can you, Link,” she replies, though he is already gone. Zelda looks after her curiously, but she says no more. She takes a deep breath, then turns to Zelda. “I can warp us back to the castle, when you’re ready.” She gives a terse nod in return. _Is there still a castle? There was an explosion…_ Panic grips her heart for a moment as she thinks of all who live in the castle, who would have had no time to evacuate – before she remembers that Ganondorf had already killed them all long before Link and Midna arrived to challenge him. Her heart returns to her, filled with lead.

The women stand together, watching the distant figure of Link grow larger as he returns to them on Epona. “I’m not bringing the horse,” Midna tells him as he arrives, her flat tone allowing no argument. Link shrugs, unconcerned, dismounting and leaving Epona behind with a few pats on the head. He moves to stand beside Midna, looking at her expectantly. Midna tilts her head upwards, and Zelda feels for the second time the strange sensation of growing lighter and lighter, as if she were being drained from the head down, before she loses feeling in her limbs entirely. She tries to blink but has no eyes, has no body at all…

Weight returns to her all at once, and she stumbles before Link’s arm materializes in time to steady her. He smiles at her sympathetically, and she straightens as Midna appears before them again, fluid and graceful in her landing. Zelda looks around, and her jaw falls open in horror. “The _castle…_ ”

They stand in what had, hardly an hour ago, been the throne room. Hardly any of the walls remain, the stone instead scattered in large pieces across the trampled gardens outside. The damage radiates from a scorch mark on the floor, at the foot of the now missing throne, where she had last seen Ganon. Black soot had spread across shattered tiles and settled into the shredded carpet. Zelda feels the strength that carried her through these awful months abandon her, and falls to her knees. “What happened here?” she asks, more to break the silence than anything else. She and Link had seen the explosion all the way from Hyrule Field, and Midna had been _in_ it. Zelda turns to face her, suddenly awestruck. “How did you ever survive this?” she asks in a hushed tone, cursing the waver in her voice, however imperceptible it may be.

The Twili puts a hand on the back of her neck, avoiding the Hylians’ gazes as a blush crawls up her cheeks. “Must have been the Fused Shadows. I certainly don’t know the extent of their power,” she mutters. Link and Zelda continue to stare, and Midna picks at an imaginary stray thread on her cloak. Finally, she clears her throat and claps her hands together, speaking more forcefully. “We need to tell the townspeople what happened. Wouldn’t want anyone trying to come in here looking for survivors, the place might come down on them.”

Link nods, and steps forward, extending a hand to his princess. Zelda takes it and he pulls her back to her feet, taking several deep breaths to brace herself. He releases her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says, his blue eyes soft with sympathy, then puts a hand on her shoulder. Zelda appreciates the warm weight, but it is only a moment before he seems to remember himself and draws away again.

“Are you coming?” Midna calls, already at the doorway but still avoiding eye contact. She taps her foot, in discomfort or impatience, Zelda cannot tell. With a final glance at Zelda, Link hurries ahead, but she is slower to follow. Every step feels as heavy as the shattered masonry that lay about them, and she knows she will have to pack away her shock and grief when it came time to face her citizens. She had always prided herself on presenting a calm face to the public, and dearly wished that she could have done so during the invasion. _Now’s the time you can make it up to them. You can rest later._ Zelda feels another hand on her shoulder, and turns to face Link again. To her surprise, she finds herself looking up at Midna. “Ganon is dead. We have good news to share along with the bad,” she says. Link glances back at the pair, questioningly, but Midna makes a shooing gesture and he slowly turns back around.

The princesses begin to walk together, Zelda very aware of the thin hand still on her shoulder. All is quiet for several minutes as the group makes their way to the castle entrance. Outside the throne room, the damage to the building is not quite as severe, and Zelda had seen none of it since her surrender. She refuses to look at anything but Link, leading their way through the wreckage that he had already navigated today. At her side, Midna remains silent as well.

 _What do you say to someone at the end of a war? It was the doing of Hylians that she became cursed in the first place; cursed, overthrown, and banished. What words can heal such suffering?_ She had felt it for herself, Midna’s utter loss and despair, but finds herself lost for words. “Link was certainly happy to see you,” she says, finally. Midna does not return her smile, instead closing her eyes and bowing her head gravely, finally withdrawing her hand. Her voice turns soft.

“He shouldn’t have been. Link, he… he gave up so much for me, princess. He fought so hard and traveled so far, all at my command, he only ever wanted to bring his friends home. And if anything had happened to him… I would have dismissed it as the frailty of his race and found myself another hero. Nobody else could have done what he had done, nobody could have withstood the effects of twilight, let alone face Ganondorf, but I would have thrown him away. He knows it too, I never made it a secret.” She swallows, and her voice drops further. “I don’t know if I can ever make it up to him.”

Zelda isn’t certain how to respond to that, and they walk in silence. It’s Midna who breaks it, with a pointed clearing of her throat. “How do you feel about getting your kingdom back, princess? Must be a relief.” The cheer in her tone is strained, and Zelda guesses why.

“You have yours back too, Midna. You can go home.” The Twili doesn’t respond, doesn’t even smile. After a moment, Zelda decides to answer her initial question instead. “I’ve dreamed of this moment for so long, but it doesn’t feel like I thought it should. Hyrule is again the realm of light that the goddesses designed, and my people are free and safe. But they are wounded, we are wounded. We won’t be able to repel a second attack, should one strike now.”

“There won’t be one, not with Ganondorf gone,” Midna says, rather quickly, as if to assure herself as well as Zelda. But Zelda shakes her head, growing frantic, the worries that she had held down for so long bubbling up and threatening to choke her if she doesn’t spit them out.

“My knights could not repel Zant, and I surrendered to him. Why should anyone trust me now? It was I who invited darkness to the realm, and only I who knew the source of the fear that gripped them. Innocent citizens suffered due to my weakness, and they will all know it soon enough. It was you who saved them, Midna, you and Link. We owe everything to you.”

“Then perhaps I ought to be the princess of Hyrule, and you of Twilight.” Her words are light, if only for a moment. “My people will welcome you before me, I am certain. When Zant took over, I fled. I was not strong enough to face him either, princess. But you stayed and suffered alongside Hyrule, while I abandoned my land to their fate.” Zelda had never seen such bitterness on her face as there was now; not as she had faced down Ganon, nor even when she had first stumbled into Hyrule, cursed and desperate.

“You came back for them,” Zelda tries, but Midna won’t hear it, her hands twisting into fists and her lips twisting into a snarl. Zelda is somewhat taken aback to see that her teeth are still pointed, even in her natural form.

“Link went back for them. Zant had cursed them as he had me, transformed them into monsters as well, but I dared not show my face to them. It was Link who liberated them while I hid in his shadow.” They reach a doorway that had been blocked by fallen rubble, and Link waves the women back as they reach him. Midna looks affronted, until she sees him pull out a bomb, and they back away as the resulting explosion clears the entryway. Link, however, only steps a few feet back, entirely unfazed by the detonation. He continues on as if nothing had happened, but keeps the bomb pouch in hand as they begin walking again.

Midna walks more slowly now, her brow furrowed in thought. Zelda slows her pace to match, and looks curiously at her. A moment passes before Midna seems to notice her. “That… reminded me of something. If I am able to reclaim my throne now, that means I will be able to destroy the Mirror of Twilight. I have abandoned my responsibilities as a ruler, but I can start to put it right.”

Zelda stares at her. “Put it right? The goddesses themselves left that Mirror, they wanted the portal to exist. Would you deny their wishes?” Midna stops dead, now the one to look surprised.

“It was also the goddesses who banished my people from their realm, Zelda. Would _you_ deny them that?” she shoots back. Her red eyes seem to burn into Zelda with the challenge. “It was the Mirror that allowed the invasion to happen, it let Ganondorf into my realm and Zant into yours. Light and shadow can’t mix, as we all know.”

“But one cannot exist without the other. You and Link worked together to defeat Ganon, why shouldn’t Hyrule and Twilight work together to repair the damage? Each side is at fault for having harmed the other.”

Midna shakes her head, but the pair hear the sound of a throat clearing, and turn to see that Link has rejoined them, his expression equally serious as theirs. ‘Your palace is also in ruin, Midna, and your people were hurt too. Why shouldn’t both kingdoms heal together?’

“Ah, Link, I see what’s happened. You’ve fallen in love with me and don’t want me to leave.  I understand, really, I get it all the time,” Midna laughs. Link doesn’t join in.

‘I was serious. I think Princess Zelda is right.’

The Twili looks between the Hylians, back and forth as though waiting for one to break and admit to the joke. But there is no joke, and she finally sighs. “Very well, I will consider this. I’ll leave the Mirror intact until we decide.” Link smiles at her, but Zelda merely nods in acknowledgement.

They continue together to the castle gates without further incident, all three quiet with thought. Zelda does not slow her pace as they stride across the ruined gardens. If she stops walking now, she feels as though she can never start again, and be stuck in the ruined castle forever. Perhaps that would be easier than having to tell her people what happened, and who had been responsible.

She steps in front of Link and Midna and takes a deep breath, then pushes open the great doors into Castle Town. A crowd of townspeople had gathered on the other side, wide-eyed and anxious. They hardly step through the doorway when a voice calls out from amongst them: “Link? Link, is that you?” The speaker is a thin young man at the forefront of the group, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he takes in the trio before him. His eyes widen. “Could it be – are you the Princess Zelda?” She gives a brief nod, forcing a polite smile on her face, as he falls into a bow that the rest of the assembly hastens to copy.

She hears mutters through the crowd, many of her own name, many of Link’s. They grow louder and louder, steadily rising into cheers. “The princess is alive!” “You did it, Link!” “Gods be praised, is that really the princess?” Her smile grows genuine, and beside her, Link is beaming as well. Despite seeing Ganon defeated once more, despite finding Midna alive and restored to her true form, it is only now that she allows herself to relax. At last, light has been restored to Hyrule, and Princess Zelda feels as though nothing can darken it again.


	2. Midna - 1

Hardly a day passed during her tenure in Hyrule that Midna had not cursed the sun and every quirk of the universe that had aligned to position it so close to the land, but no oaths seemed foul enough for her now, standing beneath it with nowhere to hide from an eager crowd. She glances at Link for the umpteenth time, willing the crowd to look away long enough for her to slip into the cool shade of his shadow. The watching Hylians, however, refuse to oblige, and even as she throws Link another pleading glance, she feels their ogling gaze shift onto her.

Startled, Midna looks up and stares back at them, and sees that Link and Zelda are looking expectantly at her as well, smiles wide. Zelda had been making some kind of speech, had she mentioned Midna? _Will the princess be upset that I wasn’t listening? It’s not as if she was saying anything I didn’t already know…_

Forcing what she hopes to be a pleasant expression on her face, Midna shifts forward, raising a hand from her side in a non-committal greeting. The crowd bursts into cheers, but the amusement in Link’s eyes tells her she hadn’t entirely gotten away with it.

Zelda had evidently noticed her inattention as well, resuming her address with a somewhat pointed “As I was saying, it was due to the great efforts of Link and Midna that this threat has now been eliminated.” Her words are met with more excitement from the crowd, and a woman with dark skin and intricately braided hair steps through them, putting her hand on the shoulder of the young man who first recognized Zelda and Link. Midna recognizes the woman as the barkeep that Link became friends with, and the bespectacled man as one of her little resistance group, the scholarly one.

The woman ( _Tia? Tara? It definitely starts with a T, I know that)_ makes her way to the front of the crowd, then turns to face the other townspeople. “I’m sure these must be a strange tale to hear, an otherworldly invasion and monsters made from shadow! But I’m sure you’ve heard of the troubles that plagued our Goron and Zora friends, and seen the creatures that prowled just beyond our walls. I know we liked to pretend that nothing was wrong, but Link truly is a hero! I’ve seen his deeds myself!” _Did she really expect that nobody would believe the princess? …Had they not believed her?_ She sneaks a glance at Zelda, whose smile has again taken on a rather forced quality. The assembly breaks into mutters, looking thoughtfully at Link. _Ouch, guess they didn’t._

Link apparently noticed the same thing, for he steps forward, arms raised for quiet. The crowd obliges at once, leaning forward to see him better. ‘Everyone has been under a lot of stress lately, I think we could all use a bit of relaxation.’ He pauses, waiting as the Hylians in front repeat his words to those standing in the back. An idea seems to come to him, and he turns to face Zelda and Midna, his face boyish with excitement. ‘Princess! We could throw a party! To celebrate!’

Zelda looks taken aback. “A… party?” Link nods eagerly, and she looks thoughtful, then slowly shakes her head. “I am not certain that this is an appropriate time, Link. We have sustained heavy losses, and there is much to repair across the realm. We cannot allow ourselves to become blinded by victory.”

Midna, however, isn’t so certain. She leans in towards the Hylians, frowning.  “Your citizens’ morale is one of those losses, Zelda. I’m sure you had it rough trapped in the castle, but things were pretty grim out here, too,” she murmurs. The crowd cannot have heard her words, but Link did, and he clasps his hands eagerly, looking for all the world like a child begging his mother for sweets. Zelda looks amused as she watches him, and shakes her head again, smiling wryly this time.

“Let’s put it to a vote, then.” She raises her voice and addresses the crowd again. “People of Castle Town, what do you think of holding a celebration to mark the end of this long night?” A cheer goes up, and the woman ( _Thalia? Damn it, I thought I was getting better with Hylian names)_ looks particularly excited. She turns to the princess, but bites her lip in hesitation, rocking back on her heels. Zelda notices her after a moment, and gives an encouraging nod.

“Your Highness, your people in Kakariko village were also impacted by this battle. Perhaps they could be a part of this celebration as well?” Midna manages to bite back a laugh at her eagerness. _The Kakariko shaman isn’t interested in you, lady. You’re wasting your time on him._ But Zelda looks interested.

“That sounds like a fine idea, Miss…?”

“Telma, your Highness. I run a bar in the town,” she replies, giving a little bow. _Aha! I knew it began with a T!_

“And you mentioned the Gorons and Zoras too… If they were harmed by Ganondorf’s actions as well, then they should know that he has been defeated, and how the threat came about in the first place. They deserve that much from us,” she mused.

Telma agrees, and returns to the crowd with another bow. Following Zelda’s announcement, the townspeople had devolved into a chattering mass as they began to disperse back to their homes and businesses. Midna feels a tension that she did not know she was holding release in the pit of her stomach as she watches the Hylians scatter, and the feeling intensifies as she notes that the sun is beginning to dip below the town walls. The shadow she had been hiding in had lengthened, and she finally steps away from the castle gate. It feels unusual to walk again, having grown so used to floating along beside Link, or riding on the wolf’s back. It was, perhaps, the one thing Midna truly enjoyed about her cursed form, the silver lining she forced herself to find.

Looking around, the Twili spies Link talking to a small knot of Hylians that she recognizes as Telma’s bar friends. He sees her approaching and waves her over with a grin. ‘Rusl’s planning to return to Ordon in the morning, and I’m going with him. When are you going back to Twilight?’ he asks. Midna stares at him, much as his companions are staring at her.

“You’re leaving so soon?” she finally manages. Link tilts his head to the side, frowning.

‘Why wouldn’t I? I don’t live here.’

“I – I know that, Link. I’ve been to Ordon, remember?” The helmeted man Link had indicated, Rusl, looks alarmed at that, but Link nods in agreement. Midna finds herself struggling for words, and to tamp down the inexplicable panic rising within her. _Get it together, Midna, what are you doing? Why do you care? Were you planning on having the poor boy follow you around forever, solving all your problems for you?_ She takes a deep, steadying breath. “I suppose there’s no reason to hang around, then. If you’re leaving tomorrow, then I shall as well. It’s just… strange, that this will be the last night we spend together, after everything.”

Link grins and nudges her with his elbow. She sighs, but smiles in spite of herself. _Way to keep your cool, idiot._ Rusl is eyeing her differently now, considering her carefully and reaching up to stroke his beard. The armored woman at his side, however, grins and gives her a thumbs up. The implication of her words strikes with the force of a charging Helmasaur, and a blush steals up her cheeks faster than she can beat it back. “Not like that, you fool,” she groans, and Rusl looks away hastily, blushing himself. Link looks between the two with raised eyebrows, and they both carefully avoid his gaze. Midna rushes to change the subject. “It sounds like you have your plans set, then. There’s probably housing available in town, but we can do better. Let’s go find Zelda and demand accommodation from her. We’re heroes now, didn’t you hear?”

She turns and marches away before he can respond, her face still aflame, making for the castle gates. Behind them, the grounds are fully bathed in shadow. The cool darkness envelops Midna like a shroud, brushing away the punishing glare of the sun. It is only a few steps inside that she sees the princess, facing a tall man clad in plate armor. She cannot see his face under his helmet, but she has seen enough of Hylian steel to know that his plate is of fine make, and skillfully decorated with enameled engravings of the royal Hylian crest. Standing well behind the man, a cloud of men and women in fine clothing watch the exchange anxiously. Their dress consists largely of flamboyantly colored silks, but the royal crest can be found upon their persons as well, patterned in jewels on heavy brooches or embroidered upon scarves.

Nobody appears to notice the Twili in their midst, and she takes the opportunity to slip amongst the shadows, waiting to speak to Zelda alone. The armored man is gesticulating as he speaks, but only his louder words reach her. “…have fought them off… why bother training… accepting foreign aid…” Midna’s eyes narrow at his last comment, but before she can step back into view, she hears Zelda speak, loudly enough to cut him off.

“Zant was not fighting alone, captain. He was aided by the great beast of legend, Ganon did resurface in our time. Hyrule has never been able to withstand him, not without the Hero of the goddesses. Without such a Hero, we could have kept fighting but we could not have won.”

“How could you have known that Ganon stood behind him? Did your _Triforce_ tell you? Was it _wise_ to give up so early?” Disdain colors his voice, and Zelda steps back as though slapped, drawing her hand to her chin as though to protect the Triforce upon it.

Silence echoes around the courtyard, and Midna decides she had heard enough. “My, Hyrule is blessed indeed to be ruled by such brave and mighty warriors. Now I do find a military state a bit unrefined, but I’m only a princess, I wouldn’t know of such things. Not much one for management, me.” The man spins around, scowling as he searched for the newcomer.

“Mind your tongue, woman. The Hylian monarchy has led this holy kingdom to greatness for centuries,” he barks. _How quickly he defends the throne that he was just mocking, the two-faced bastard!_

“Then perhaps you ought to leave them to it.”

He opens his mouth to retort back, but Zelda raises her arms to silence the two. “Thank you for your concern, captain. You know I always value your expertise on the state of the kingdom’s security. Perhaps we can discuss this more in the morning,” she adds firmly, and the man takes the command to leave with a stiff incline of his head and a muttered “Your Highness”. An angry flush crawls up his neck as he takes his leave. With a sigh, Zelda turns to face Midna, lowering her arms.

“A military state? Rest assured, Midna, that I take orders from no one, including my guard. It is a natural thing, after a disaster, to question how it might have been avoided.”

 _You allow your guard to insult you like that, and call it natural?_ A scathing reply rolls to the tip of her tongue, but dies there as she takes a closer look at the princess. Her hair had begun to come down from its intricate braid, straggling across her forehead. She appears rather pale ( _Hylians get like that when they don’t spend enough time under the sun, I think I read about that… How terrible_ ), but it’s her eyes that look a thousand years old. The blue in them is as bright as Link’s, but even at his most drained, Link did not have the same rings of tired red beneath, or the almost wild look of despair hidden in an otherwise schooled expression. _Is she thinking about the castle again? Or the work that needs to be done?_ Midna takes a careful step forward, then closes the distance between the two as Zelda does not move. She puts an arm around the shorter woman’s shoulders, feeling the tension in her muscles.

“It’s been a long day for you, princess,” she finds herself saying, her voice soft, as though at the bedside of an ill family member. “But victory is ours, and it’s finally time to rest. Let’s see if there are any beds around here, there’s still much of the castle standing.” The Hylian sags against her, only for a moment, before finding the strength to hold herself up again. It’s over so quickly that Midna isn’t certain if it happened at all, if not for the ever-increased weariness in her eyes. She keeps her arm around her, half expecting to catch her should she fall, but Zelda walks at her side at a normal pace.

They turn towards the castle, and the flock of waiting Hylians descend upon the pair. They all begin to speak at once, and Zelda dismisses them one by one with a nod and a wave of her hand once they’ve finished. Midna watches them curiously, completely unnoticed in their frenzy to be the first to speak to their princess. What snatches she can make out of their discordant conversations is unimportant at best and utterly inane at worst. Many speak of the celebration to come, and of who to send to Kakariko, Death Mountain, and Zora’s Domain. A number more repeat the words of the captain of the guard, and fret over the months-old decision to surrender to Zant. Zelda spares no more than a few words in response to any of them, but they appear satisfied when they depart. Finally, only one remains, a stooped old man. His clothing appears more practical and muted than his fellows, aside from a golden necklace that shines as brightly as his bald head.

“Your Highness, it is so good to see you return to us alive and well. We were so dreadfully worried when we saw that odd barrier go up, and such a short relief to see it come back down…” He trails off, declining to remind the princess of the terrible blast that destroyed her home. Midna decides right then that this man is her new favorite of the Hylian nobles. He thinks quietly for a moment, a slight frown on his face, before continuing. “The question began to rise, your Highness, of who would lead us in the event that the princess is… unavailable. The council, of course, did our best to keep things running in your absence, but I feel our progress was, ah, _stagnated_ , by the lack of a singular leader.”

“I appreciate your concern, chancellor. I confess that I, too, shared those fears. It is a matter that I’ve given great thought to, and we will surely discuss in greater detail soon.”

The old man looks as though he’d like to say more, but bows his head and walks away when Zelda says no more. She gives a sideways glance to Midna, smiling grimly. “Well now, wasn’t that fun? How I’ve missed my dear advisors,” she says in a low voice. Midna had barely contained her growing amusement, and now that the royal advisors had departed, she allows her laughter to bubble out. Zelda’s smile grows warmer, though she looks no less weary. Their walk had slowed to a crawl when they had been intercepted by the crowd, and only just reached the doors to the castle proper. Zelda makes to push them open, then pauses and looks around. “Where’s Link?”

Midna frowns. “I thought he’d have caught up by now. Hang on,” she says, finally removing her arm from around the princess’ shoulders to rush back across the grounds and into town. She finds the boy standing where she left him, listening to his friends talk with a relaxed smile on his face. She’s surprised to see him looking alert and cheerful, after all of the fighting he had done that day. He looks up when Midna shouts his name, and waves a farewell to his companions when she beckons him over. “You can see your fans tomorrow,” she tells him when he’s close enough to hear. He rolls his eyes, but the effect is spoiled by a yawn.

The pair make their way back to the princess, who had waited for them where Midna left her. “I was just curious, you didn’t have to go get him,” Zelda tells her, but she looks amused all the same.

Together, they step into the castle, and Zelda leads the way to a side wing that she tells them is reserved for visitors. “It’s not quite as formal as the royal chambers, so I don’t think Ganondorf will have bothered with it,” she explains, her voice hopeful. Indeed, the building appears to be largely intact, with only some shattered windows and a thick layer of sediment on every surface, shaken from the stone walls and ceiling when the castle trembled under the earlier explosion.

All is quiet as they cross long hallways and elaborately decorated rooms, and the silence seems to weigh on Zelda, who glances over her shoulder before speaking again. “I had thought that my citizens would take the news of the invasion much worse than they did. That went… rather well.”

Midna snorts derisively. “Did it? Your nobles didn’t seem to think so.” Zelda groans, shoulders slumping, finally giving the first sign of frustration.

“My council hates working together, I should have expected this. I should have had some back up plan in place,” she mutters. She glances back at Midna again, thoughtful. “Do you think your advisors will have had the same problem without you?”

“Oh, they had their leader, remember? Zant was the _king_ ,” she sneers, twisting her hands into fists. _He probably killed them all off, got rid of the competition._ She had forced herself not to think of home for so long, instead focusing single-mindedly on her mission, and the realization now hits like a blow to the gut. Silence settles upon them once more, thick as the dust around them.

After a moment, Zelda tries again to break it. “Everyone will know you two are heroes, now. I do not wish to understate my gratitude for all you have done.”

Midna tries to keep the edge of bitterness from creeping into her tone, but isn’t entirely successful. “They know that about Link, certainly. Everyone saw him running around, here and in Twilight.” _I only hid in his shadow, the whole time. Hide and run away and get other people to fix things for you, that’s all you know how to do, isn’t it? …Well, what’s one more time?_ “Link,” she begins, then hesitates. _How much more can I ask of him? When will it end?_

But he smiles. ‘I wouldn’t want to do all of that explaining alone. Want me to come with you, to meet your people?’

 _Well, that was easy._ “I’m starting to think you know me too well.” She shakes her head, but can’t stop herself from smiling in relief. “How can I ever make it up to you?”

‘Leave the portal open,” he says, promptly. She blinks in surprise. _Why does he care?_

“I don’t think it’s safe, Link. I – I said I’d think about it, and I will, but I really don’t –”

Link cuts her off with a violent shake of his head. ‘You asked. I’m not letting you leave us that quickly.’

Try as she may, Midna finds herself unable to think of a response to that, and Link looks satisfied. They finally stop walking, and Zelda gestures to the doors around them. “These are bedrooms. Take your pick.” She takes a deep breath, and gives them a weary smile. “It’s finally over. I cannot thank you enough, both of you. Hyrule is deeply in your debt.” Link inclines his head in acknowledgement, and Midna copies the action. What more is there to say?

Again, all is quiet as they each make for a separate room, but the stillness does not threaten to smother them this time. In the darkness of her chosen bedroom, Midna finds herself reminded of the peaceful solitude of her home. She drops off to sleep, imagining the perpetual black snow of twilight drifting up around her.


	3. Link - 1

“What a day, eh, Link?” Rusl says heartily, reaching over and clapping Link on the back as they cross into the boundary of Ordon Village. It had been a long afternoon of travel, made all the longer by Link knowing that teleportation was possible, and having grown used to it. Hours passed by, flying far more slowly than the earth beneath Epona’s hooves. Rusl put up a commendable effort in carrying a conversation, at first, but was forced to concede to silence when it became obvious that Link could not hold the reins and reply to him at the same time. Still, theirs was not an unpleasant trip, with the calming sounds of hooves hitting the ground and the wind in their hair. Link has to admit, slow going as it is, it feels nice to not be in a life-or-death hurry to get somewhere.

The silence did not end once they entered the village. None of the children had arrived yet, as Rusl had explained when they set out, they were only just preparing to leave from Kakariko in a horse-drawn cart. It would be painfully slow going, he confided, as if their current pace was not. Even with his warning, it was startling to Link to see the village so empty and quiet. Only one figure had come to greet them, although it takes Rusl a moment to notice her in his musing. “Good to be home, good to be home… Ah, there’s Uli!” He rushes off towards his wife, his traveling companion easily forgotten in his exuberance.

Alone, Link turns back up the path they just went through, back to his own house. _What a day, Rusl._ As if in a daze, he climbs the ladder to his house as he had done a thousand times before, hardly seeing the worn wood beneath his hands. As he throws himself onto the thick straw of his mattress, for the first time since all of this began, he doesn’t think about how good it is to be home and safe. He closes his eyes, and wonders if Midna feels the same way to be back home; as if her skin is on backwards, as if the whole world had been shifted a foot to the left and nobody else seems to notice. He scowls and shifts, punching his pillow into a better shape. He wonders if the mattress beneath her back is also unbearably scratchy and lumpy compared to the ones they had woken up on that morning.

x X x

It ought to be criminal, creating a bed as plush as this one. Or perhaps, criminal to not have made it readily available to the entire kingdom, and not just to the royal family. _Is this where the town’s taxes go to, feather beds and embroidered pillowcases?_ A bitterness rose within him, the age-old resentment of a poor man coming into contact with the ultra-wealthy for the first time, but it was quickly smothered by the softness of the woolen blanket against his cheek, finer than any cloth ever spun in Ordon. _What manner of creature produced the fiber for this? It’s no goat, Ordon has the best goats in all of Hyrule._

Admittedly, the down was so deep that it was hard to push himself out of bed, his hand sinking into the mattress when he tried. It took a few minutes to extricate himself, and as soon as he remembered where he was going that day, he wished he hadn’t. The Twilight Realm was cold and angular, a far cry from the cocooning warmth of the bed he just forced himself out of. Midna proved to be as difficult to coax out of bed as he had been, her mood not improved by Link leaping onto her in a final effort to wake her.

They were soon on their way, a few slices of buttered toast clutched in their hands, as Princess Zelda had insisted they take some sort of breakfast with them before leaving her hospitality. She had been almost irritatingly alert as Link and Midna stumbled blearily past, although looking back, Link wasn’t certain they would have found their way back out of the castle before noon without her guidance. It wasn’t until he stood once more before the Mirror of Twilight that he registered how Midna’s hands were balled into fists, and her back unnaturally straight. She didn’t look back at him as she activated the portal, but her voice was even higher than usual as she spoke. “Ready to go, Link?” Without waiting for an answer, she stepped through, leaving him to follow behind.

He nearly ran into Midna as he appeared on the platform before the Palace, as she was standing stock still before a small knot of Twili citizens. A harsh voice split the air. “Who’s there? This is Twili ground, you’re not welcome here! Go back where you came from!” Peering around her, he saw that the speaker was another Twili, tall and lanky like the others. Unlike the others, he held aloft an elegant rapier with an elaborate basket hilt, the point of which was aimed up at Midna’s throat. A scowl twisted the man’s face, until recognition filled his eyes. “Midna?” he breathed, his sword arm falling slack.

She stepped forward, hands raised in a gesture of surrender. Link could not recall ever seeing her so… submissive? _She’s nervous._ The word doesn’t sound right, associated with someone so bold, but what other word was there? Her hands were steady, and her voice as well, but the fact alone that she hadn’t immediately assumed control of the situation was unnerving enough. “Now let’s all just calm down, all right, Taivo?”

“Midna,” he repeated, shoulders relaxing in relief. “Gods be good, I thought the Usurper had killed you. He said that he did, what a fool I was to believe it.”

She raised an eyebrow, and lowered her hands back to her side. A cocky smirk crossed her face, and just like that the Midna that Link had gotten to know so well returned. “A fool indeed. It’ll take more than that to get rid of me, cousin.” Her smirk vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. “I thought he killed you too,” she said quietly. The Twili, Taivo, gave a weak laugh.

“I won’t ask your forgiveness for our security measures, I’m afraid. We’ve seen some strange folk around here, lately. Nothing good has ever come of it.” It’s then that he saw Link, and whipped his sword up once more to point damningly at him. “Like you! What are you?” he cried, his guard raised again in a heartbeat.

Another Twili gasped, and scurried out from the crowd. Far shorter than him, she had to jump to grasp his arm, and lowered it hastily. “We’ve seen that one around before, Taivo, that’s the one that retrieved the Sol Spheres!” A murmur of interest rippled through the crowd, cutting through their anxiety like a blade. A strange chittering noise filled the air as they all peered at Link, a sort of communication that he had not heard before. _I’m probably the only Hylian they’ve ever seen._ It had only gone on for a few moments, but the weight of their unfathomable red eyes was already heavier than he would have liked. _Is this how Midna felt yesterday?_

She addressed the group, but her words did not reach Link past those glowing little eyes before him, so unlike Midna’s or Taivo’s. _Her cousin, she said? Zant’s body was more like theirs too, is that just something the royal family has?... Is Zant related to them?_ As quickly as the question had come, so too did the resolve to never, _ever_ pose it to Midna. It was almost a relief when she turned to Link at last, asking permission to transform him into a wolf to demonstrate how he was the Hero of Twili legend, the divine beast acting in the will of the gods. Here, in the cold and dark of the Twilight Realm, it felt natural to be a wolf, or at the very least, to no longer be Hylian in this land built specifically to destroy them.

The rest of the princess’ address passed uneventfully, no doubt with many of the same words that Zelda had used yesterday, and with Link more comfortable in his wolf-skin than his own. Were those alien gazes softer now, more understanding, after so many Twili had been forcibly turned into monsters by Zant? Link didn’t know, but the wolf didn’t care. The world, any world, was always simpler in this form. He sat quietly at Midna’s feet, feeling her hand come down to pat his head absently. Once that would have bothered him, but such a long time ago that was. He watched idly as the black snow of twilight rose around them, yet never seeming to make contact with anything solid. Was it cold to the touch, like the snow he knew? Did it matter? The wolf wanted to race through it, like it had through Snowpeak, so much more at ease in the deep drift with its thick fur and extra set of legs than Hylian Link had been. He thumped a leg, eager to stretch and run, and felt Midna’s hand on his head again, a silent command to be still.

Did time pass here, in this realm with neither sun nor moon? Link could not tell, but eventually Midna’s explanation of Zant and Ganondorf’s attack ended, and the gathered Twili chattered amongst themselves again. She looked down at him. “Do you want to be human again?” she asked, reaching for Zant’s curse shard. He began to shake his head. Twilight was bad for Hylians, it wasn’t right, the wolf belonged here. But something nagged at him, some half-formed concern that he was using the wolf to… hide? He nodded instead. Midna quirked an eyebrow, but conceded, and with the usual hot stretching feeling, Link stood on two legs once more.

Words came to him suddenly, bypassing his brain entirely as he shared them. They had something to do with that feeling, he knew, and with what little he could glean from those stares of the Twili citizens. _They’re hiding too._ ‘Midna, something’s wrong. This isn’t how things usually are here, are they?’ She laughed.

“Of course it isn’t, didn’t you hear? Everyone had gone underground, or had been cursed themselves. I don’t know what you’ve been imagining but that’s now how I run things,” she said haughtily. Her earlier anxiety appeared to be entirely forgotten, or at least entirely hidden.

‘Do you think they could use a celebration too? Same as us?’ Midna laughed again, but Taivo, who had yet to leave like the others, looked interested.

“A celebration? Of freedom from the Usurper? Oh, go on, Midna, what better reason is there for a party?” She groaned, and swatted at Link’s head. Her reach was far longer than he expected, still not used to seeing this new body, and ducking his head was no longer enough to dodge her.

“See what you’ve caused now?” But her cousin pressed on, and she sighed, still admitting defeat faster than Link would have liked. “All right, all right, let me just get this one back home first. He has a ride to catch to his village, don’t think I’ve forgotten…”

x X x

At first, it’s a relief to find Ordon as small and sleepy as ever, and it only take a couple days for Link to fall into a rhythm, not quite the same as his old life but as close as he can manage. Waking at dawn, idling the day away on the ranch, and passing back through the tiny village to his treehouse. All is calm and quiet, and the only action of the day is herding the stubborn goats back to their pen. True, he had never been one to wake earlier than Fado before, and now he passes his time practicing sword fighting against a set of clumsy hay-stuffed dummies, but the similarities to his old routine are enough for him. Finally, Link is able to rest.

It doesn’t last as long as he would like. The arrival of the children from Kakariko brings some small uproar, but it’s only hours before Ordon sleeps again, as ever. It’s only after a few hours more that he tires of his new shadows of Talo, Colin, and Beth, and decides to give them the slingshot that they had so envied, another lifetime ago. Even after their own adventures, they’re pleased enough with the toy, but it’s not long before they begin to demand demonstrations of Link’s newer weapons and tools. The ball and chain is a particular favorite, at least before Jaggle reluctantly takes Link aside and quietly asks that he smashes fewer pumpkins, even if it’s for the kids’ entertainment. Link blinks at him in astonishment as he walks away, remembering the days when the man would have shouted himself hoarse at them all for wasting valuable food.

The stillness of the village begins to grate on Link, his nerves winding tighter and tighter with each passing day with no danger. Surely, there must be some monster lurking nearby, but where is it? _Where?_ He starts jumping at every sound, pulling his sword at every movement in the corner of his eye. The children begin to shun him, uncomfortable with his jumpiness, and his only solace becomes time spent with Epona, and with Ilia, once she finally arrived in town. The adults in town speak nothing but praise of their hero, seemingly oblivious to his growing unease. Sera refuses his Rupees at her shop, and Uli cheerfully tells him that she would have named her baby after him, had the child been male. The men of the town insist on continuing their nightly watches, as had become their custom since the children were taken away, yet they refuse to allow Link to join them, telling him that such boring duty is below a great hero like him.

It all comes to a head one night at Jaggle and Pergie’s house, having finally accepted a dinner invitation that he had been dodging for a week. Like the rest of the village, the couple had been treating Link with a new reverence, speaking to him in hushed tones and unusually eager to please. Without his enterprising brother to occupy him, Talo’s hero worship of Link had reached new and unbearable levels, surpassing even that of Colin. As his mother prepares dinner and his father sets the table with their finest dishes, Talo capers about underfoot, finally getting shooed from the kitchen by Pergie.

Link sits quietly on their sofa, hands clenched in his lap, trying not to let the clattering of cookware remind him of the clattering of bones. He had been dreaming of Arbiter’s Grounds lately, hordes of the undead chasing him across pits of quicksand and bottomless voids that threaten to swallow him whole. In his dreams, every enemy had been invisible, and without Midna at his side, he’s unable to transform and see their true forms. He cannot fight and he cannot hide, and soon all he sees is darkness as they drag him down below the sand. He closes his eyes, trying to relax before his hosts see his disquiet. Suddenly, Talo leaps onto the couch beside him, overbalancing and grabbing Link’s arm for stability. In a flash, Link’s sword is out of its scabbard and at his throat, a battle cry dying on Link’s lips as he sees the fear in the boy’s eyes. He drops the blade and steps back in horror, the clatter of metal on stone as it hits the floor unbearably loud. Beneath three pairs of wide eyes, he snatches his sword back, and rushes out of the house without a word.

Overnight, the most popular man in town became the least popular, and Link relishes and curses the sudden solitude. Nightmares of his more harrowing adventures grow more vivid, and many mornings find him reaching for his sword, his most trustworthy companion. But as he remembers what happened that night at Jaggle and Pergie’s, he forces himself to be grateful that nobody is around him. Boring days melt into dull weeks, and even the refuge of his oldest friend is torn away as Mayor Bo forbids Ilia from visiting him. To her credit, she manages to sneak out twice, until Bo asks Beth to keep an eye on her, citing concern for her delicate health. She fought bitterly against him, proclaiming that she felt perfectly fine now that her memory was returned, but it seemed that the mayor had gained a fierce new protectiveness over his village after the attack and refused to back down.

And so it was that Link found himself alone at the spring one morning when a tall, thin man in a red suit came upon him, greeting him with a loud shout. “Mister Link, there is a letter for you! I left it with the mayor, he said he would get it to you. Onward to mail!” he cries, and hurries into the forest without a glance behind. He blinks in surprise, then scrambles to his feet and rushes into the village. When he arrives, he sees Bo and his daughter outside of their house, Ilia looks at him questioningly, but Link just shakes his head, indicating her father with a nod. She scowls at his reluctance, and beckons him over so aggressively that the mayor notices. To both their surprise, he too waves Link over, and he peers over his shoulder at the letter in his hand.

The paper is a crisp white, and the broken golden seal bears the royal Hylian crest. The handwriting is clean and precise, and though he cannot see a signature, it’s clear who wrote it.

_Mayor Bo,_

_It is our great pleasure to welcome the citizens of Ordon Village to Hyrule Castle to join in a kingdom-wide celebration of our new era of peace._

The rest of the letter is hidden under a fold in the paper. Once he’s done reading, Bo wordlessly hands over a second letter, written on an unusual greyish-green paper. Link rips it open eagerly and reads the unfamiliar curly handwriting, a grin spreading over his face.

_Link,_

_I wasn’t planning on ever setting foot in Hyrule again, but you got my cousin all wound up with your stupid idea, and he made me go see Zelda about it and then she got on my case and now I have to go to this stupid party too! She thinks it will be a “valuable opportunity to gauge the well-being of our citizens and their interactions with each other”, but I think she just wants to see me again. Try not to get too jealous! This was your idea, so you better be there!_

_Midna, Twilight Princess_

He feels Ilia’s chin on his shoulder, reading alongside him. Once she’s done, she turns to her father, clasping her hands in glee. But Bo puts up a hand to stop her before she can ask. “No, no… It’s too far away, Ilia, too far from home. It’s not safe out there.”

“Father, you’d be there too, the whole town’s invited, didn’t you see?”

“No, I won’t be there, nobody is going. It’s not safe.” He folds the letter back up and tucks it away in a pocket, ready to end the conversation.

Ilia puts her hands on her hips. “Is Ordon safer? Weren’t the kids taken from their beds, right here?” Bo flinches as through struck, but his daughter presses on. “Besides, I’ve been to Castle Town before, didn’t you see me there, Link?” He, too, flinches as Ilia turns to him, her eyes burning fiercely. He nods, but she doesn’t look away, demanding a more thorough confirmation.

Link sighs. ‘Yes, you were there.” Ilia turns back to her father, triumphant, and only Bo sees his next words. ‘Rusl goes there too, he’s safe there,’ Link adds, and only now does Bo look thoughtful.

“He does, doesn’t he?” He strokes his moustache in thought, and a warning look from Link quells Ilia from interrupting. Slowly, a smile spreads over his face. “Very well, here’s what I will do. I will ask Rusl if he would agree to escort the two of you into town. You may attend the party, then he can bring you home.”

Ilia splutters for a moment, words escaping her in her fury. Link merely frowns. ‘Why don’t I bring her? She’ll be safe.’

“Like you kept Talo safe?” Bo shoots back, but he flinches at his own words as well as Link and Ilia. In his mind’s eye, Link can see the dark-haired boy again, fear carved into his young face. He lowers his head in shame, but so does the mayor. “No, Link, I’m sorry. That’s not fair of me.” He heaves a great sigh. “Rusl won’t want to leave his family, not with the baby. And you, you did save the children’s lives, and my Ilia too.” He lapses into thought, and this time Ilia gives him his time, although she squirms with impatience.

Finally, Bo smiles again, and retrieves Zelda’s letter from his pocket. He holds it out to Link, who accepts it before the offer is taken away again. By this point, other villagers have come to see the disturbance, and it seems Bo noticed them too. He stands straighter, and speaks in his loud, official voice. “It would not be proper for Ordon to not send a delegation to this event when we’ve been invited by the princess herself. Ilia, you may go, Link is capable enough of defending you.” Ilia gives a shout of excitement and hugs her father, then hugs Link, then dashes back into her house. Feeling the weight of the villagers’ eyes on him, some curious, some hostile, Link gives the mayor a nod of acknowledgement and hurries back to his house, the letters from the two princesses clutched tightly to his chest.


	4. Link - 2

After the cloying stillness of Ordon Village, the air of Hyrule Field tastes fresh and full of promise as Link races across it. An excited whoop escapes him, and he urges Epona on ever faster. It feels too soon that grass turns to cobblestone beneath her hooves, and Link slows their pace to a stop. He hears a shuddering exhale in his ear, and twists around in surprise to see Ilia sitting behind him.

“We’re – we’re not going… that fast… on the way back…” she gasps, unclenching her arms from his waist. Link feels an ache in his ribs where she had been clinging to him, and wonders how he could have failed to notice his best friend’s presence. She slides off the horse’s back, stumbling as she hits the ground with stiff legs.

He looks at her sheepishly, dismounting as well. ‘I forgot you were here,’ he admits. She raises an eyebrow at him, then shakes her head and looks away with a smile, sternness melting away immediately.

“It’s good to see you so excited,” she says softly. She looks towards Hyrule Castle, rising above the walls of Castle Town, lights glowing against the rapidly darkening sky. “I never thought I’d see a place like this.”

‘You’ve been here before,’ Link reminds her, but she shakes her head.       

“That doesn’t count. I don’t remember it, you know that.” They stand in silence for a minute more, Ilia’s eyes wide as she drinks in the sight of the castle. Finally, she takes a deep breath, and turns to face Link, her eyes bright. “Shall we go in, then? Oh, actually, hang on…” She begins to fuss with her dress, a modest gown of soft goat’s wool that is rather warm for the season, but the most formal garment she owns. She had tried to cajole Link into dressing up as well, but he refused to hear it, stubbornly donning his regular mail shirt and leather greaves beneath his green tunic. Eventually, she declares herself ready, and they both give Epona a pat farewell, then make their way into the town.

The streets are emptier than Link had ever seen them, their footsteps echoing off the stone. The only other sound is the bubbling of the fountain in the main square, and a low rumble of speech from inside the castle. As they approach, they find the castle in an entirely different state than when Link had last left it, cold and empty and broken. Colorful lanterns line the path from the town gates to the main doors, which had been flung open to allow light and sound to pour out over the grass. String instruments strain to make themselves heard over the roar of the chattering crowd that grows louder with every step closer, until the pair reach the doorway.

Inside, the hall is packed with partygoers, bedecked with flamboyant clothing in every color. Some sit at tables, some stand, and some dance. Clustered throughout the crowd, standing taller than the Hylians, are knots of Gorons and Zoras, laughing and drinking and dancing with everyone else. Along the walls are tables laden with food (including one table, Link notices, whose plates are loaded with rocks), and torches burn merrily on the walls. He cannot see the musicians from the doorway, but their efforts are only slightly more pronounced now that they’ve come closer. “There’s so many people,” Ilia leans in to whisper, her eyes wide with awe. Link nods in sympathy.

‘I’m not really used to it either,’ he confides. Ilia raises an eyebrow at him.

“You will be after tonight. How many of these people came out just to see you, Mr. Hero?” she teases. He groans, and she throws an arm over his shoulders with a laugh, and together they walk into the lights and sounds of the celebration.

Hardly a step over the threshold, the pair is met by a group of Hylians, who leap up from their seats by the door. “Ah, Link!” one of them calls, his tone casual, as though they had not all clearly been waiting for him. Ilia gives Link a sly grin.

“That didn’t take long,” she whispers. “I’m sure they only want to talk to you, I’ll see about getting us some food.” She slips off into the crowd before he can stop her, and is quickly lost amongst them. _Thanks for your continued support, Ilia._ The group appear to make no notice of her, and with startling efficiency, they gather behind Link and begin to herd him into a side corridor, away from the crowd.

The man from before speaks again as soon as the door closes behind them. “Link. Might we speak with you someplace a little quieter?” He phrases it like a question, as though he had not already made and acted upon the decision. The speaker is an old man with thick grey hair and fine blue robes, his voice far more solemn now that he had his attention. The scholarly effect of his outfit is somewhat dampened by the gleam of gold thread woven into the fabric, matching the many rings that glitter on his fingers as he extends his hand. Link takes it and shakes, and the man puts his other hand atop Link’s, preventing him from pulling away. “My name is Mirel. Such an honor to meet you at last.”

A woman steps forward to stand at Mirel’s side. Her heavily painted face reminds Link of the clowns who live by Lake Hylia, her skin unnaturally pale and her lips crimson. It distracts him from the finery she wears, a flowing velvet gown accented by a heavy cluster of gemstones at her throat. “We’re here to represent the Hylian noble families, to welcome you to Hyrule Castle.”

Link blinks in surprise at that, and she waits for a response that does not come. After a moment, she tries again, still smiling widely. “We also wish to extend our gratitude for your services to the kingdom, and the bravery and strength that you have displayed.” The nobles behind her lean in, watching him intently. “You have our thanks,” the woman prompts.

Mirel still has both of his hands on Link’s, and frowns slightly when Link pulls his away. Words evade him for a moment, and he replies with the first ones he can think of. ‘Isn’t this the princess’ castle? She already told me I was welcome here.’ It occurs to him only after a moment that this was rude, but he finds it hard to feel guilty. Seeing these men and women dripping with opulence, and knowing it was all carefully chosen to impress the common folk attending the celebration, angers Link. _They’ve never done a hard day’s work in their lives, I’m sure. By what right do they deserve to place themselves so high above us?_ He has no illusions that if he were not wearing the green tunic of the Hero, they would have seen him only as a pitiful farmer boy, unworthy of their notice. Under their unrelenting stares, he dearly wishes that they had indeed passed him by.

The woman’s smile falters, then returns brighter than ever. “But of course.” She makes to say more, but Mirel puts a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sure we’ve taken up enough of the Hero’s time here, Yllys. Let us get to the point.” The woman, Yllys, nods and pats his hand, which Mirel quickly snatches back. She retreats to join the group still watching Link carefully. Some of their cheerful smiles have dimmed, he notices, though they stretch wide as before. Mirel clears his throat, and Link looks back to him.

“Has the princess informed you of the Accolade of the Goddesses?” Link slowly shakes his head, and Mirel nods solemnly. “It is an ancient tradition, an award that is presented only to the Hero chosen by the Goddesses, such as yourself. A very rare thing indeed, it has only been presented four times before you.”

His words leave Link feeling as though he had been doused in ice water. ‘There had been… other Heroes? More than the one who first wore this?’ he asks, indicating his tunic.

Mirel’s eye widen. “But of course. Four others, as I said. Their stories are the stories of the history of Hyrule, I would have thought any Hylian citizen would know of them.” A low hum breaks out amongst the group behind him as they whisper to one another. Link raises his chin, daring any of them to meet his eye. _Go on, say something. The stupid goat herder doesn’t even know his royal history. You’re all thinking it, go on and say it._

They do not say it, and he scowls. He chooses his next words carefully. ‘The only history of Hyrule that I need concern myself with are Ganon’s actions in my lifetime. It has proved more than sufficient for my task.’ He clenches his hands into fists, stopping himself from continuing. _It was my sword, not your books, that defeated Ganondorf._ He takes a deep breath, attempts to relax his face into something resembling a smile, and loosens his fingers again. ‘Well, thank you for telling me this, Mirel. This Accolade of your sounds… fancy.’

A woman laughs from behind the assembly, and Link feels his smile grow genuine at the sound. Mirel whirls around, the movement sending his robes glittering in the torchlight, as Princess Zelda approaches. The nobles hasten to bow before her, but her eyes are on Link. “Fancy is certainly the word for it, the ceremony has been noted to grow longer and more ostentatious every time it is performed. Hyrule has sometimes gone centuries without it, and we tend to get a bit carried away.” She casts a wary eye over the assembled Hylians. “I apologize that I was not the first to welcome you to your own party, Link. I had expected to be informed of your arrival at once, but perhaps I had not made that clear enough.” Her tone is light, but the group shrinks away from her, ever so slightly. Link only shrugs.

‘I wanted to stand on my horse and shout for you as soon as I got to the town, but my friend thought that’d be rude. Now I know for next time, look for the green man yodeling on a horse.’ This earns a quickly stifled snort of laughter from somewhere in the group, and Zelda’s eyes sparkle with amusement.

“I’ll hold you to it,” she warns, and puts an arm around his shoulder, firmly leading him away from the nobles and further into the castle. The familiarity surprises him; it’s the sort of action he would have expected from Midna. But as soon as they turn a corner, she drops her arm again and sighs. “I had hoped that lot wouldn’t swarm you until I had the chance to warn you, no doubt that’s why they failed to tell me that you were here. The ceremony is indeed an old tradition, but I doubt that it is one you will find to your liking.” They walk together for a moment through the labyrinthine castle hallways, the princess lost in thought, and Link content to follow her.

“Mirel was right though, that the award had been presented to the great Heroes of the past. But there’s something else that goes with the award, something you might like.” He looks at her, but her eyes are fixed on the path ahead of them. They stop before a set of double doors, and she places a hand on one. “The stories of each Hero have been recorded, exactly as they themselves told it. We also have paintings of all of them, done by the best artisans in the land. We keep them in here, where the public is able to visit them.” The princess finally looks back at him. “Would you like to see?”

Link hesitates. He would like to see, dearly so, to look upon the boys who had borne the weight of the destiny they shared across the ages. He wonders what threat had called them to action, what terrors they had faced, and how they had overcome their trials. He reaches for the doorknob, then stops, his fingertips barely brushing the cold metal. Midna’s words come back to him, the ones he had read a dozen times over in her letter. _This was your idea, so you better be there!_ He draws his hand back and shakes his head, taking a step away. ‘I’d love to, but not tonight. Midna will kill me if I abandon the party before she even gets here.’

Zelda gives a rueful laugh, but steps back from the door as well. “You’re right. Perhaps tomorrow, then?” He smiles and nods, a gesture she returns. The princess looks almost a different woman than when he last saw her, much like her castle. She appears well-rested, and smiles lift her lips with little effort. Like Link, she still wears her armor, but the hunted look in her eyes is gone. “She will also kill us if we’re not there to greet her when she arrives,” she sighs.

With that, she leads Link away again, back through the noisy main hall, then back outside onto the front lawn. The partygoers had begun to flow outside, looking for a reprieve from the room that had grown steadily warmer and more crowded as the celebration progressed. The previously unseen musicians had set up outside as well, where they could at last be heard clearly over the cacophony.

The princess tips her head back and looks up at the sky. “Oh, we’re just in time,” she murmurs. “That’s good, all good…” Link follows her gaze to see a spiral of teal light form in the evening sky, and feels a grin stretch across his cheeks at the familiar sight. The portal opens, and a moment later, a small group of Twili are standing before the castle. The crowd does not notice them right away, but once they do, silence is quick to fall. One figure steps in front of the rest, tall and thin. Narrow red eyes survey the assembly, many of whom shrink away from her alien gaze. But the woman has eyes only for one Hylian, who had rushed forward as soon as he saw the figures drop from the portal.

“It’s good to see you again, Link,” Midna says, her calm tone at odds with her sharp-toothed grin and sparkling eyes. Link laughs and throws his arms around her, and she lets out a startled giggle. After a moment, he feels a pair of slim arms wrap back around him. _I didn’t realize I missed her so much_. It startles him to see his friend so much taller than him; even after spending a day with her true form, he couldn’t help but imagine her in her familiar cursed body when he thought of her.

After a minute that feels like an hour, or perhaps it was an hour that felt like a minute, he releases her and steps back. Princess Zelda had approached them, and she loudly announces to the watching partygoers that the Twilight Princess and her guests had arrived. Indeed, standing behind her are a cluster of a dozen Twili, standing in the realm of Hyrule for the first time. Link recognizes the man Taivo, who gives him a little wink when he catches his eye. The Twili look around rapidly, although with their inhuman glowing eyes it’s hard to tell if they’re nervous or curious. As he watches, he sees one of them look up at the night sky, and quickly nudge their fellows and direct them to look upwards. They whisper eagerly together, and the sound carries over the suddenly hushed crowd until Taivo clears his throat.

“Hyrule Princess, I must say, I was told there would be a party and you have not disappointed. What a blessed Realm you have.” He grins at her and bows. Zelda blinks several times, as though uncertain if she were being insulted, before mustering a smile in return.

“I am glad you like it, it is a historical event indeed to have your people here.” Midna makes a scathing noise.

“A historical event, who cares? It’s a party, princess, not some conference. We’re here to celebrate Zant and Ganondorfs fall!” At her words, a cheer rises from the crowd, and the spell of silence is broken. The party guests resume their activities, and Midna throws an arm over Link and Zelda’s shoulders. “It looks like you’ve started already, show me what’s been going on,” she commands.

“There are a few people that I think you two would be interested in meeting, particularly since your adventures have taken you all across the country,” Zelda tells her. They follow her curiously as she weaves through the crowd, smiling and waving with practiced ease at the Hylians who bow to her as she passes. They see a few Twili as well, some having been quick to integrate with the other partygoers, and Link notes that they make no genuflection to their own princess that he can notice, aside from the occasional friendly wave. Midna makes no remark upon this as she lazily returns their greetings, but he notices a sideways glance from Zelda with each one.

Finally, they approach a pair of Hylians, both garbed in thick leather over plain earth-toned shirts. The man wears his long brown hair loose, allowing it to cascade over well-muscled shoulders. The woman by his side is short and squat, with iron grey hair framing a heavily lined face. “Hort! Jarama! I hope you are enjoying yourselves,” Zelda calls. The man looks up, and nudges the woman. They both incline their heads to the princess, and look curiously at Midna.

To Link’s surprise, Zelda begins to sign with her hands. ‘Link, Midna, this is Hort and Jarama.’

The man, Hort, reaches out to give the pair a firm handshake. ‘I’m the royal Goron ambassador, took over for the lady when she lost her hearing.’ She scowls and moves to elbow him, though Hort dodges her with a grin.

‘They didn’t want to phrase it like that though, no. Told me it was cause I got too old to make the climb, didn’t even mention the explosion,’ she complains. ‘Don’t know who decided I couldn’t make it up the mountain anymore, I sure didn’t.’ She looks pointedly at Zelda, who grimaces.

‘That was my father’s decision, I cannot overturn it. Not after a replacement had been appointed.’

‘Royal ambassadors?’ Link asks quickly, sensing the well-worn tracks of an old argument.

Jarama nods, her expression still stern. ‘The Gorons have ones too, who come down to Hyrule Castle and Lake Hylia. And the Zoras have theirs, between the three of us. But you won’t catch them on Death Mountain, a volcano’s no place for a fish. They meet at the base, in Kakariko.’

Beside her, Hort scans the crowd, then points into it. ‘Speaking of Zoras,’ he says, then calls out loud. “Hey! Kilei!” The Hylian he waves over is a teenage girl, with tiny silver bells threaded into her long brown braid. Hort gives one of them a poke as she joins them, making it ring softly. ‘I think I saw a jester wearing these, did you rob him?’ he laughs. The girl scowls.

“It’s a _party_ , Hort,” she retorts, before noticing Jarama and switching to signing as well. ‘Oh, sorry Jarama.’ She turns back to the older man. ‘I see you didn’t bother to do anything special for it, you wear that ugly old apron every day. When was the last time you even visited the forge?’ Hort only laughs again, but is quick to change the subject, surreptitiously smoothing down the front of his thick leather apron.

‘Kilei, this is Link. Link, Kilei’s the Zora ambassador.’ She gives a squeak of surprise to see him and the princesses, and quickly shakes his hand while dropping into a curtsy before Zelda. It’s a somewhat awkward movement, and her face is crimson when she rises again.

‘I like the bells,’ he tells her. She blushes even deeper, but a giggle escapes her when he adds, ‘Maybe you can give one to Hort so he can dress up too.’ The grin falls off Hort’s face as Jarama roars with laughter, and she holds him in place as Kilei quickly dismantles her braid to pull off a bell. Midna laughs as well, but Zelda merely smiles and bids her ambassadors farewell. Link and Midna hasten to join her.

“I’m glad they’re enjoying the party, at least,” she says as they walk away, more cheerful than Link had ever heard her. “It would not have happened without them making arrangements with the Gorons and Zoras.”

Midna nods thoughtfully, then stops dead. It’s a few more steps before Link and Zelda realize that she’s no longer with them, and they turn to look back at her. She seems to break out of her reverie once she feels their concerned gazes upon her. “I have an idea,” she says slowly, brows furrowed in thought. She frowns at the ground for a moment more, then looks at Zelda. “Might I speak with you about it, princess?” She nods her agreement, and steps back to stand at the Twili’s side. Link moves to join them, but is stopped by Midna’s raised hand. “For once, this isn’t something I need your help on, Link. You should be enjoying your party.” Her tone is unusually gentle, but he suspects that she will not be swayed on the matter. _But it had been so nice to see her again…_ Feigning nonchalance, he smiles and waves the pair away, then turns back towards the crowd.

The party proves to be an admirable distraction, and Link is quickly able to shake off his feeling of abandonment and lose himself in the celebration. The next several hours are a whirl of bright lights, loud music, and a louder crowd. He had never heard such din in his life, nor seen so many people in one place. The initial unease around the Twili guests quickly turns to curiosity, and gradually to complete nonchalance by the more inebriated partygoers. The string ensemble he heard earlier finally gave up entirely as their audience overtook them completely, but they were quickly replaced by a pair of Gorons on heavy drums. Their beats pulse under the eager conversation and drunken singing, like the low rumble of the volcano from which the musicians hailed.

Link floats through the crowd, eventually meeting up with Ilia again. He is surprised to find her accompanied by the Zora Prince Ralis, who had been attempting to explain the story of how she had saved his life. The two friends dance with Ralis’ Zora friends, unable to master the oddly mesmerizing moves they were performing.  After breaking away, they are quickly overtaken by a cluster of young Gorons who attempt to heckle Link into trying a rock cake (now made with real rocks!) before being thwarted by the arrival of their patriarch, Darbus. They duck away into the crowd as he scolds the children, and allow themselves to be swept away with the movement of the disjointed dancers.

As the sky begins to lighten, the guests cling to the night, not wanting the excitement to end. The Twili, however, look rather uneasy to see signs of the rising sun. They rejoin together from where they had dispersed throughout the hall and gardens, muttering nervously in their unfamiliar language and pointing towards the horizon. Finally, Midna and Princess Zelda emerge from the castle and stand before the guests. By their side is Darbus and Prince Ralis, and the crowd falls quickly silent as Darbus shouts for their attention in his booming voice. Together, the leaders of the four races call the party to an end, and announce the beginning of a new age of peace and prosperity. All four appear filled to the brim with confidence, and as the crowd shrieks with cheers, Link feels their eyes fall proudly onto him. Something swells within him at the sight, and just for a moment, all traces of fear and uncertainty feel banished from the world.


	5. Zelda - 2

“So, is it nice to see Hyrule again?”

“No.” Zelda stares at her, but Midna’s not looking; her eyes are closed, her head tilted back with a small smile on her face. In the darkness of the room, lit by a single taper candle, her brilliant orange hair and geometric skin markings seem to glow. The candle was lit for Zelda’s benefit; it was immediately clear that Midna was utterly at ease in the pitch blackness of the room, and Zelda rather suspected that she could see well enough in the dark while the Hylian had fumbled with the tinderbox. As their silence stretches out, the sounds of the festivities outside deafened by the many thick stone walls between them, she cracks open an eye and looks at Zelda with a lazy grin. “We often called it the world of light, doesn’t that sound grand? Nobody ever mentioned how terrible light actually is.” She laughs, but Zelda does not join in. After a moment she quiets, and something in Zelda’s expression sobers her. “I thought you all floated around without a care in the world, with every luxury imaginable at your fingertips, the whole world bending to your whims.” She sighs, resting her head in her hand.

Zelda allows herself a wry smile. “If I could give my people that life, I would. But as much as some of them may try to pretend otherwise, no one leads a life free of strife.”

They both whirl around in alarm as a deep voice sounds behind them, followed by a hearty laugh. They listen carefully as a pair of men move past their door and down the hallway, singing along to what must be a song playing outside. Their footsteps are hesitant and clumsy and their voices are slurred, and the two women watch the door as the drunks cheerfully pass them by. Their suddenly stiff postures relax, but only slightly. “Hyrule is so loud,” Midna muses, once the noise fades away. “I knew it would be bright, but I didn’t expect how noisy it would be.”

“I know what you mean,” Zelda mutters, thinking of her advisors, still rankled that they deliberately worked around her to intercept Link.

“Do you?” Surprise flashes across Midna’s face. “Do your histories tell much of the Twilight Realm, then?” Zelda shakes her head. How could they have, when Hylians sent through the Mirror were intended to never return? “There are very few of us, compared to the Hylian population. There are advisors and such in the palace but outside of there, it’s easy to go days without seeing another soul.”

_Sounds lonely._ “Sounds peaceful.” Midna smiles, and closes her eyes again.

The princess leaves her to her thoughts for a moment before clearing her throat. “It is good to see you again, Midna, but what was it that you wished to speak to me about?” She had led them away from the castle grounds that the party had spilled into and into a private room, careful to avoid notice from the nobles who would no doubt be eager to invent gossip over her seeking a private audience with the leader of a foreign nation.

The Twili keeps her eyes closed, but nods her head in the direction of the door they had entered through, indicating the celebration they had left. “I had an idea, from those people you just introduced us to. If you and Link want the Mirror to stay open, and for our worlds to remain connected, then perhaps there should be an ambassador between us.”

Zelda thinks of the Twili who had arrived with Midna; their cautious glances around at the world so unlike their own, their nerves visible even through their near lack of recognizable facial features. It was true that she wanted to leave the portal open, and had hoped to keep in close contact with her sister kingdom, but it did not seem that the Twili could abide being in Hyrule, and vice versa. “Would… would your people want to have a Hylian in their midst? Or for one of their number to travel to Hyrule?”

The taller woman shrugs, the motion fluid and almost careless. “Many won’t. But many do. The ones you saw today are leaders of the different tribes around the realm, or delegates to them. Some tribes still, after all this time, think of Hyrule as their true home.” She glances over with a mischievous smile. “I warned them that Hyrule may not be to their liking, far too bright and loud, as I’ve said. But they didn’t want to pass up the opportunity.”

“Have you given any more thought to our kingdoms working together to rebuild?”

She waves a hand, as though to brush off the idea. “Well, that’s where the ambassadors would come in, wouldn’t they? Coordinating resources and all that.”

Zelda’s eyes widen in spite of herself. “So you agree then? You’re leaving our worlds linked together?”

“I promised Link I would, didn’t I?” she grumbles. “And besides, this party of his seems to have gone well too, hasn’t it?” She pauses. “Uh, has it? We sure left quickly, didn’t we?”

The princess laughs, and Midna smiles. Together, they exit the room and make their way back to the roaring crowds. There they part again, and hours pass by as Zelda winds her way throughout the celebration. She sees Link a few times, at one point struggling to copy a complicated Zora dance that even Kilei would not attempt. She smiles as he gets his limbs so twisted up that he staggers over, roaring with laughter. She sees a local fruit vendor juggling apples for the amusement of a cheering trio of Gorons, one of whom quickly picks up the skill with a pair of rocks. Multiple drunken Hylians invite her to dance with them, much to the dismay of their sober friends, but she declines all offers, despite the pounding of the Goron drums thrumming through her, far more persuasive than any partygoer. She does not see Midna again until the end of the night, for it had been Prince Ralis who found her and brought her over with the princess and Darbus. As Midna and Link had saved both of their lives, the other two leaders were more than happy to receive Midna’s rather terse letter informing them of her decision to attend the celebration.

Only minutes after the address of the four race leaders, Zelda is surprised to see Midna gathering her people in preparation to return home. “Leaving so soon? We have much to discuss.”

She glances at her over her shoulder. “The sun is coming up quickly. We cannot stay here.” Indeed, the cluster of Twili are watching the horizon with apprehension. Zelda nods.

“I hope we might meet again soon, Midna. I think it’ll be… nice, having another princess to talk to.”

Midna raises a thin eyebrow. “All that talk about working together and ambassadors, and you just needed a friend? There are easier places to find one of those, you know.”

Zelda swats at her arm, surprising herself with the display of playfulness. Midna only grins in response, before going to join her fellows to warp back home.

x X x

The full light of the morning finds the princess and her Hero standing once more outside the doors to the Hall of Heroes, which she and her staff refer to more informally as the Portrait Room. Link had met her here mere hours after the end of the celebration, and when he gives a great yawn she struggles not to respond in kind. Still, his eyes are bright and eager, and as soon as she open the heavy door, he begins to look around the room with great interest. However, he seems to cross the threshold with a caution at odds with his apparent enthusiasm, as though unsure what to expect. He does not reach for his sword, at least, as she had seen him done multiple times during the celebration when the eager crowd had pressed in a bit too closely. She follows at a distance, unwilling to further test his nerves.

The room is semicircular in shape, and mostly bare of decor to allow attention to be focused on the four large paintings that hang in gilded frames upon the wall. The portraits all depict young men with blonde hair and green clothes, of different ages but all with the same fierce determination on their face. The princess pretends not to notice as Link looks down at his own outfit, self-consciously smoothing down the worn cloth. Even after his adventures, Link seems to be only now taking in the fact that this was truly the traditional garb of the Hero, and his own place in that line. He falls to his knees. Zelda reaches out an instinctive hand to catch him, across the room and several seconds too late.

Link looks younger than Zelda had ever seen him before; his eyes, normally so wolfish even in human form, wide with awe. They fall upon the most ancient of the portraits first, a young man soaring through empty sky on a large red bird. Then a child with a golden sword, looking up at an ordinary flower that towers over him. Four boys with identical mischievous grins and that same golden blade stand in a battle formation. Finally, a child and a teenager, each with an arm out to hold up a small blue instrument together. Like all Hylians, Zelda had grown up with the tales of these past Heroes, and like all in the royal line, had grown up knowing they were entirely true. _Would anybody believe the truth of what our Link has gone through?_ She tears her eyes from the paintings to look at him again, still on the floor and gazing up at his legacy.

Minutes pass, and the young man remains overwhelmed by the history before him. She wants to say something, anything, to break the silence that stretched out. All that comes to mind is a tidbit from her history lessons. “See how old the first portrait is? That’s the Hero who forged the Master Sword, the one you now carry.” Link finally looks away to glance at the princess, then slowly rises to his feet. He draws his sword with a practiced hand, then drops down again before the first of the series, kneeling and holding the blade aloft as though to be knighted. His head bows, and Zelda wonders if the Hero of Time had done this as well, when he first came to this place with that blade. As the stories told, both he and Link grew up in isolation from the kingdom, and hadn’t heard of the Master Sword until their time had come to wield it themselves. Zelda suddenly feels as though she’s intruding on a private moment, and leaves him to his ritual.

It's several minutes more before Link enters the hallway where the princess is waiting, his sword sheathed once more. She lays a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve done them all proud, Link. Your place on that wall is rightfully deserved.” He looks up at her, a relieved smile breaking across his face, his gloved hand coming up to cover hers. They stand together quietly, until Zelda feels the tension finally ease from his shoulders.

She looks at the legendary blade on his back. “I am glad to see that the Master Sword has served you well, and broke that curse Zant put on you.” Link nods, and smiles, reaching up to pat the hilt like a beloved hound. She doubts that he wants to hear what she has to say next, but presses on. “It has also fulfilled its role in defeating Ganondorf, as you have. I think we’ll be safe returning it to its pedestal. We can have a new blade made for you, of c–” She’s cut off by Link shaking his head.

He does not look surprised by her suggestion, but his expression is firm. ‘She’s not ready to sleep yet,’ he says, and walks away, leaving the princess to stare at his retreating form in bewilderment.

x X x

The rest of the princess’ day is less interesting, and far less enjoyable, and Zelda finds herself thinking of what Midna had said about the quiet solitude of her home with a growing wistfulness as her council of advisors prattle on and on. She had informed them of her intentions to work with Midna to rebuild both of their kingdoms, and to keep a connection between the two. All had gone well at first, and most of the assembled men and women appeared interested, if not outright relieved, to have another community to work with in facing the mammoth task before them. Those who hesitated, concerned about whether the crown even had the resources to send aid to another kingdom, were quickly mollified by pointing out that the aid would be mutual, which also meant that neither party would be left in debt to the other.

Buoyed by the success of the festivities the night before, the princess was all too ready to call the meeting to an end, until Aram, the head of the royal treasury, asked to speak. She cheerfully indicated for him to continue.

“Your proposal sounds most agreeable, your Highness, most beneficial indeed, but I must confess a thought that troubles me. This Princess Midna, she is the leader of this Twili race? The race responsible for the darkness that was only just lifted from our lands?”

Zelda frowned. “The Twilight throne had been stolen from her, and it was that usurper who led the invasion. It was Midna who fought with the Hero to stop it and free Hyrule and Twilight both. She is not our enemy.”

“Yes, your Highness, of course, perhaps this individual is friendly to us. But you do recall the history of the creation of these Twili? The descendants of criminals and practitioners of foul magic, who knows what kind of society such villains could have forged in the darkness?” Muttering broke out amongst the council, and Zelda slumped back in her seat with a sigh. _He’s not listening to me, and they’re going to listen to him. Of course this had been going too well._ She resigned herself to a long afternoon of waiting for their arguing to die down, and for the better part of an hour the group works themselves into a terror, describing a return of the shadow beasts that had stalked them in the never-ending night and of a second attack that Zelda was surely welcoming into their kingdom, just as she had the first time…. It was with that comment that she decided she had heard enough.

She raises her voice, not looking up from the knot in the wooden table that she had been studying for the past several minutes. “Be silent! This is pointless. I have already made the decision to work with Princess Midna. I was not putting it to a vote, only letting you know of our plan as a courtesy.” She sees movement from the corner of her eyes and knows that they’re all looking at each other nervously. Finally, it’s Aram who speaks again.

“Begging your pardon, your Highness, but…” He takes a deep breath, appearing to brace himself for something. She waits, her face carefully passive. “You say that this new leader is what makes the situation different. How can you be so sure that this other princess is trustworthy? How can we know that she means well for Hyrule?”

Zelda gives a blink of surprise before schooling herself once more. _We would not have defeated Ganondorf without her aid, and still you question her motives?_ She thinks of her decision to transfer her own life force to save the Twili’s life, and how her belief in her and Link to be able to defeat Ganondorf had been true. It had been a split-second decision, driven by some impulse she had not known, and yet for all that she risked it was one that she knew she could never regret. She thinks of the moment when the life force had been returned to her, when she suddenly came back to herself with her heart and mind full of the bitterness and despair that had been Midna’s. It had lasted only a moment, as though she had run her fingernails over something unpleasant that sent a jolt up her arm that she would be unable to recreate a second later, while the memory of the sensation remained.

She sees that her council members are leaning towards her, their expressions serious as they watch intently for the princess’s response. “I know her heart well,” she says simply, and rises from the table. The council hastens to their feet as well, but she has already swept from the room without a glance back.

She strides down the long castle corridors, lost in thought, until she hears a man call out to her. She turns, cursing inwardly and wanting nothing more than to return to her chambers in peace. Approaching her is not any member of her council but instead the tall, armored form of Captain Lee, head of her royal guard. The princess hails him with a raised hand, but does not slow her pace as he moves to her side. She looks up at him, but half a minute passes before he speaks.

“I wanted to apologize to you, your Highness,” he says, bowing his head. “My behavior these past few weeks has been unacceptable, especially my actions on the night of Ganondorf’s defeat.”

“Thank you, captain,” she begins, but he shakes his head, unwilling to accept it just yet. He stops walking, and she reluctantly follows suit.

“I offered you great insult, I even questioned your Triforce. I have been thinking about that, in particular. It is a wise leader, your Highness, that knows their own strength, and their limitations. As your captain I should have been the first one to support your decision, and as your friend, I should know the price of rushing blindly at a powerful foe.” His words lack the sting of bitterness that she expected.

Zelda softens. “My overconfidence has cost you dearly before, Lee,” she says quietly. “It is not a mistake I intend to make again. I owe you that much.”

He nods, mouth tightening, and there’s a ring of metal on metal as he claps an armored hand over his chest. “My thanks, Zelda.” She feels as though she ought to say more, but what words can she offer him that she hasn’t said a hundred times before? She turns to leave, but sees his mouth open once more. As she turns back to face him again, she’s surprised to see his face turn pink.

“Is there something else troubling you, captain?” _Best get it all out now while he’s in a generous mood._

“Not quite. But I did… hear some things. What might trouble you, your Highness.” Zelda had known this man for many years, but never has she seen him as flustered as he is now. She waits for him to elaborate, trying to hide her surprise and impatience, as Captain Lee rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Nobody’s talked to me about it, not directly, but I don’t think they’ve talked to you about it either,” he finally says, his tone hushed.

She frowns. “It’s not like you to beat around the bush, who is talking about something troubling and what are they talking about? Why was I not informed at once?” she commands. But Lee puts up his hands, placatingly.

“It’s not monsters, nothing like that” he says hastily, and she lets out a sigh of relief. “It’s more… personal. I overheard your advisors talking about you. Not my place, your Highness, and I apologize, but I thought it was something you’d want to know about.”

The princess hesitates. The proper thing to do would be to ask her council members if there was anything they needed to tell her in private, but for once, she didn’t want to do the proper thing. Perhaps it’s something about seeing Lee act so uncertain, as he had as a boy constantly overshadowed by his brother, that makes her feel young and daring and almost mischievous. She takes a step closer, glancing around to ensure that they are alone, and lowers her voice conspiratorially. “What were they saying?”

Lee grimaces, and rubs his neck again, his gloves and helm clinking together. “They’ve spoken to you about a line of succession, right?” She nods her confirmation. “What they left out is that they’ve begun to discuss which of them would marry you, to continue the royal line.” He pauses, waiting for her reaction, and continues quickly when he sees none. “It got pretty heated, arguing about who would be the best suitor, and which families have produced the most sons. They know you won’t like it, your Highness, and I know it too, but I think you ought to know these kinds of talks are going on.”

She steps back again, forcing her expression to remain neutral. Her muscles feel stiff as she nods and says, “Thank you for telling me this, captain.” He gives a short jerk of a nod in return, and reaches up to snap shut the visor on his helmet to hide his flushed face. Zelda wishes she could conceal herself as easily as she strides away, every step longer and more forceful until she’s half running down the halls to her private chambers. It feels far too long before she’s able to throw open the door and fling herself onto her bed, pounding a pillow with her fist with a ferocity that almost surprises her.

_Bastards and cowards, all of them, how dare they?_ Angry tears prick her eyes, and she glares at the pillow she had been beating as though it was at fault. She knew, of course, that it was her duty as the nation’s princess to marry and bear children to continue her rule. Her own parents had not even known each other before their betrothal, their union having been organized as part of some political agreement. The only things they had in common were their disdain for the common royal practice of arranging marriages and their love for their daughter, both of which meant that they resolved at once to allow her to choose her own king when the time came. _The council knows this too, my father made it no secret. They grew far too bold without me, but where is that boldness when I need them to do anything?_

It felt good to rage and seethe, and Zelda allows herself to indulge in her fury until the sun begins to fall over the horizon. Anger is good, it is something to hold onto, to keep her afloat instead of wallowing in self-pity and helplessness.

It isn’t enough, however, to prevent the thrill of fear that chases down her spine as she glances out the window and beholds the darkening sky. Immediately she chides herself for her foolishness. _The sun sets every night. And it will rise again in the morning, just as it ought to. Are you a child to fear the dark?_ She knows, of course, that for entirely too long the sun had not risen at all, no matter how many hours and days she had sat at the window and waited for it. She rolls over in her bed, turning her back to the window and her mind to the problem at hand, rather than problems of the too-recent past.

She knew that a marriage should not be such a foreign concept to her, and had overheard all too many conversations between wealthy girls her age, comparing the assets and merits of the boys around them. But that’s the problem, isn’t it, that the conversations were overheard? Both as an only child and as royalty, Zelda had been distanced from the girls who might have been her peers, and she had never known any other princesses, the way that her father had grown up friendly with neighboring princes. A thought strikes her, and she sits bolt upright. _I do know another princess now. One who also has a kingdom in crisis and no heir._

How could she have forgotten so quickly, when they had spoken last only that morning, when her entire afternoon had been devoted to defending her character and her people to the council? Surely, Midna would understand the position she found herself in, she might even have some advice on the matter. Relief floods through her, and she sinks back on her pillows once more. A wave of exhaustion rolls over her, the excitement of the celebration finally fading away and leaving only a long night and a longer day without sleep. _I’ll talk to Midna about this, she’ll understand. And it’s time I visit her realm for once, to see what damage and resources are there._ She yawns, and tugs her blankets over herself, still fully dressed. _It’s supposed to be quiet there, at least, she said it was quiet._

Sleep takes her quickly. In her dream, she rises from her bed and goes to brush out her hair as usual, and is unsurprised to look in the mirror and see a head of bright orange locks that gives off its own faint light in the dark.


	6. Midna - 2

Upon seeing the Twilight Realm for the first time, Princess Zelda’s response is to shiver. It could very well have been an involuntary response to having left behind the searing heat of the Gerudo Desert, but Midna isn’t certain. Her wide eyes dart around the palace courtyard, landing briefly on every living creature in sight. Her hand drifts down to her side as she catalogs the potential enemies, where a thin silver blade hangs. _Paranoid, are we?_

Midna steps closer to the Hylian princess, raising a hand in greeting. “Nice sword, I hope you’re not planning to use it?”

The smile Zelda manages is weak, but a smile all the same. “It’s… something of a compromise. I’ve been finding it harder and harder to go anywhere without being tailed by guards, who _know_ that I’ve ordered them to keep their distance, and it was easier to agree to arm myself than to argue against them following me...” She trails off, distracted as she turns her gaze to the sky, and shifts out of the way of a particle of twilight that floats up besides her. The movement was clearly intended to look casual, but Midna does not miss the way her eyes carefully follow it until it is out of reach, nor the way the princess reaches for the Triforce on her hand, as though willing it to protect her.

Midna decides she had seen enough. “The twilight you know was an abomination of Zant’s, a cursed fog to blot out the light. The clouds here are perfectly natural, it’s really not much different to your sun going down.” Zelda nods slowly, but her hand remains on the hilt of her sword.

_It won’t do to have her so jumpy, not if she expects to get any work done._ Midna continues, her tone as light and casual as she can make it. “I was surprised to learn that your sun sets at all, you know. The world of shadow is always in shadow, but the world of light is not always in light? Pretty shoddy work, don’t you think?” Zelda does not laugh in response, but her smile brightens.

“A world of shadow… It is always this dark here?” Her gaze sweeps up to the sky again, but her uneasy expression giving way to curiosity. Midna, however, frowns.

“Actually, no, it isn’t,” she admits. “I don’t know if it was from being sealed away, or if Zant used some foul magic on them, but the Sols are not as bright as they should be.” She gestures to the palace plaza before them, where stands two identical glowing spheres, resting in their pedestals where Link had returned them only weeks before. Zelda takes a step towards them, eyes wide, but with interest rather than fear.

“These are the source of light in our world, what everything needs to live,” she explains. “Zant had hidden them away, and it had… terrible consequences. Link recovered them.” Zelda continues to examine the orbs, even as she replies.

“Well now, you just said that your realm is always in shadow, and here you have light. Shoddy work indeed.”

Midna laughs. “You need light to cast a shadow, don’t you? Without it, all you have is darkness.” Zelda nods thoughtfully, but when she finally looks up, Midna is relieved to see amusement in her eyes. After another minute, she is satisfied with her inspection, and returns to Midna’s side.

She begins to reach for a pouch at her side. “Well then, as I’ve written, I’m here so that we can begin to catalogue –” Midna shakes her head, and she closes her mouth into a frown.

 “Not in the plaza, it’s too open. I know a place; we’ll be left alone there.” Zelda nods, and with the familiar feeling of vanishing into shadow, Midna warps them away.

They reappear on a floating platform, some piece of earth that was sent into the air long before Midna was born. There are many such islands in the kingdom, but this one is a favorite of hers particularly for the small pond that sits near the center of the platform. It is hardly more than a glorified puddle, but stubbornly grows thin stalks of reeds and hosts lily pads all the same, and the water is clear and fresh. She throws herself down onto the grass and stretches, grinning up at Zelda’s shocked expression at the improper display. “There’s nobody here,” she assures her, gesturing to the empty air around them. “Take a seat, won’t you?” She pats the grass beside her in invitation, and the Hylian slowly inches away from the platform’s edge, her eyes, already so much wider than those of any Twili, round as saucers. _Not so fun, is it, finding yourself in some strange Realm?_ No sooner than the thought takes her does Midna feel guilty for it. _It wasn’t Princess Zelda who sent you to Hyrule, but you wouldn’t have gotten home without her._ She allows her voice to soften. “It’s perfectly sturdy, I come here all the time. And if you were to fall, I’d just teleport you back up. I won’t let you come to harm, Zelda.”

The water is perfectly still, with no breeze to ruffle its surface and distort its reflection of the ruddy sky. Zelda carefully lowers herself to the ground, reaching out a careful hand to inspect the ghostly pale stalks of grass, which Midna knows feel like any other plants in Hyrule. Curious, she leans forward to dip a finger into the pond, watching the resulting ripples spread out until they lapped almost imperceptibly against the water’s edge.

Midna gives a teasing smile, though the moving water twists it in her reflection. “It’s just water, princess. Nothing special.”

“Some of us aren’t as accustomed to interdimensional travel, Midna. Can you fault me for being curious? Didn’t you feel the same when you first came through the Mirror?”

“Can’t say I did, no. But I’ll admit I was pretty preoccupied at the time.” She had managed to keep the bitterness from her voice, but perhaps something in her face gave her away, for Zelda’s expression is solemn as she nods. She remains quiet for a moment, until the ripples still and the water returns to a glassy mirror, then claps her hands together. The sudden sound makes Midna flinch, but Zelda does not appear to notice, suddenly all business.

“So, as I was saying earlier, I was hoping to plan the restoration work that we had discussed before. I think we may open with cataloguing the damages, then evaluating their resource needs, then ranking them by severity and necessity, then allocating resources accordingly.” She looks up from the water. “Shall we begin?”

Midna stares at her incredulously. “Zelda, I wanted to show you this place because it’s somewhere to relax.”

“Yes, and it _is_ lovely, but –” She is cut off by Midna leaning over and pressing a long, thin finger to her lips.

“So relax!” She makes a point of stretching out expansively, enjoying the smell of the earth in her nose and the feeling of grass on her bare skin. She lies on her back and watches the clouds roll past, thick and dark against the glowing sky. Midna hears Zelda move nearby, but doesn’t look over.

Minutes pass in silence, as they so often do in the Twilight Realm.

A frog croaks, unseen even on such a small stretch of earth, but all the louder for it. It cuts through the stillness with its low, rumbling cry, and Zelda smiles to herself.

“There’s a pond in the castle gardens, much larger than this one. I used to fall asleep listening to the frogs there, they’d come out at night when the weather was warm.”

Midna had seen Hylian frogs as well, but remembers one in particular. It had been a rainy night, when she and Link had taken shelter under a tree, and she turned him into a wolf so that he might stay warmer with his thick pelt. For his health, she had insisted, the last thing she needed was for her champion to fall ill and be too useless to swing a sword. But Link had smiled all the same.

The musty smell of wet dog was thick in her nose, but she had huddled close to him through the night, appreciative of his warm and soft fur. When the sun rose again, weak and pale behind the still drizzling clouds, she had found Link chatting with a squat bullfrog that seemed to scowl up at him. She had been prepared to scold him for wasting time, until she discovered that he was only asking the frog to keep quiet, so as to allow his friend to sleep…

She swallows uneasily at the memory, but Zelda does not seem to have noticed. She looks around their platform again, curious once more, perhaps put at ease by the familiar sound. Midna watches her for a while, an amused smirk tugging at her lips, but allows the Hylian to explore in peace. Zelda remains seated, perhaps still frightened of the empty sky that yawns open beneath them, and her eyes follow the black snow that rises around them. She flinches as one particle strikes her, but as it passes through with no effect, her tension finally seems to lessen.

“You were right, Midna,” she finally says. “It is quiet here, and peaceful. I think it would be nice to have a place like this at home.”

It isn’t a comment that requires a response, but Midna is not eager to get to the real purpose of Zelda’s visit. “What about your gardens?”

“Those are nice, but my advisors know to find me there, if I’m not in the castle. Don’t get me wrong,” she adds, somewhat hastily. “I value their opinions and trust them enough to delegate portions of the kingdoms functions to them. They’re worthy leaders of their fields, and I cannot be expected to be an expert in everything.” She seems to be convincing herself, and Midna smiles, wondering how often Zelda must have given herself such a speech.

The conversation seems to have moved close enough to the topic of work, and Zelda claps her hands again, ready to begin their new joint restoration process. She had come prepared, drawing large stacks of paper and tightly rolled scrolls from her pouch, far more material than Midna would have guessed could fit into such a container. She makes extensive use of a heavily marked map of Hyrule, which she steps through in agonizing detail, province by province. Though most of the information offered is her own, she still takes thorough notes, and listens with uncomfortable intensity while Midna summarizes the reports she had been given by her various tribe leaders. Even with the papers held as close to her face as she can get away with, she feels as though those strange blue eyes are piercing through her.

Finally, the ordeal ends. Zelda looks down at her notes, clearing her throat. “To summarize, then: my kingdom has extensive fire damage to Castle Town and Kakariko, and many residents of both were killed. We have ample wood, but need metal. Your kingdom has metal, but needs wood. You have little structural damage, but far more residents are missing or dead.” She looks up. “Rebuilding homes is my most pressing issue. What do you need done first?”

Midna frowns. _What more can you ask these humans to give you? When will you learn to stand on your own feet?_

She can see them so clearly, in her mind, the dreadful masked figures that had once been her people, hunched and prowling on all fours like animals. Link had been turned into a beast as well, but there had been a nobility to the wolf that these abominations lacked, as creatures of Zant’s twisted design. Midna shudders involuntarily, and closes her eyes, hardly even noticing Zelda’s soft noise of concern.

She had spoken to them, these doomed souls, both as their potential prey, when she first saw the transformation take place, and as their princess, when the fighting was done. _The Usurper had cursed us both, why should they have been my enemies? I thought we could work together, but they couldn’t understand me. Zant was mad, and it turned them feral, isn’t that what they said?_ The stories she had heard since returning home were terrible; whispered confessions of uncontrollable rage and hate that turned to fear as their once overwhelming numbers started to dwindle, and of the despair that ran beneath them, the complete loss of self as their minds and bodies were twisted by this unknown magic. She had seen the changes begin, how they had started as soon as the Sols were locked away, but had no idea of the depraved depths they would reach. It shook her more than she wanted to admit, to see and hear such sorrow from a population she had always known to be calm and gentle, and to know that much of their blood was on her hands. _How many of them did Link and I kill? How many never came home because of us?_

Midna opens her eyes to see Zelda leaning closer to her, her brow furrowed as she awaits an answer to her question. There were some still out there, she knows it. “I do not know,” she says slowly. “Some of my people are still transformed, and I’m sure it has to do with the Sols being weakened. But how do I restore them?” Immediately she knows that she had said too much, as Zelda gazes into the water as though lost in thought. Midna shakes her head vigorously. “Do not trouble yourself with this, princess. This is an issue for Twili scholars and mages, we can handle it ourselves.”

Zelda does not look up. “The Sols function like our sun, isn’t that what you said? Sunlight is certainly a resource we have.”

“Are you suggesting that I have my most vulnerable subjects stand out under the sun? No good can come of that, Zelda, it might kill them.” But the Hylian only shakes her head, slowly, and reaches up to twine a lock of hair around her finger. She remains quiet for so long that Midna starts to think she had moved on, when she speaks again.

“What if the Sols themselves are brought to Hyrule? Perhaps it would rejuvenate them?”

Midna groans, regretting having mentioned them at all. “It’s too risky. Losing the Sols in the first place is what created the shadow creatures that took over your world.” Zelda looks up at that, her eyes bright and sharp.

“I see.” She leaves it at that, and Midna allows herself a relieved sigh.

She gets to her feet, and offers a hand to Zelda, who looks up at her in surprise. “Sounds like we’re all wrapped up here, then. I’ll bring you back to the palace.” But Zelda does not stand, instead gazing into the water and biting her lip.

She takes a deep breath, a dull pink flush rising in her pale cheeks, to Midna’s great surprise. “There is something else that I was hoping to speak to you about, Midna. A problem that’s… somewhat personal, but one that I know you share.” She looks down at her hands, fingers twisting themselves together. Midna lowers herself back to the ground, leaning in close, waving a hand in a gesture to continue. It’s a minute more before Zelda speaks.

“I was hoping to come to you for advice, or at least sympathy. You might know that my kingdom is without an heir to the throne, and that nearly proved disastrous, Ganondorf would easily have killed me without yours and Link’s aid. This problem should be mine alone to resolve, but evidently there are advisors of mine who do not see it that way. I’m told that they’ve taken it upon themselves to decide which of them should marry me to produce an heir. The presumption…” A snarl of disgust works it ways across her face, and Midna reaches a hand out to pat Zelda’s, in an attempt to soothe her. At the motion, Zelda unclenches her fingers, revealing angry red crescents where her nails had dug into her palm. She looks down at them in surprise, much the same way that Midna looks at her.

“That does sound unpleasant, Zelda, but I can’t say I understand how they think this is an appropriate solution. Just find someone to declare next in line to the throne, why bother with a marriage? I’ve named my cousin as mine, so that’s all settled here.”

Zelda stares at her, but for once, there’s no sign of amusement on Midna’s face. “Just… pick someone? Even if they’re not of my blood?” Midna rests her head on her hand, thoughtful.

“Well, someone worthy and capable, obviously. But surely birthright isn’t the best indicator of the ability to rule. Taivo has proven himself a strong leader in my… absence… but he had to grow into that position. When his father died, he wasn’t interested, and I was named in his place.” She sighs. “Of course, Zant thought the throne would go to him. You know how that went.”

Zelda shakes her head, disbelieving. Not for the first time since entering the Realm, she gazes down at the back of her hand, where the Triforce lay hidden. “The royal family of Hyrule is an unbroken line from the goddess Hylia. She watched over the Hylians long before this kingdom was even born, and we must continue that legacy. I can’t… I cannot leave my realm in the hands of anyone else.”

Midna tries not to smile, not when Zelda is so clearly distressed, but she doesn’t quite manage to stop it. “If you say so. Seems like you’re overcomplicating things, but if the tradition means that much to you, then I’ll leave you to it.” She rises to her feet again, and this time Zelda follows, though her brow remains knit in concern. _After everything we’ve discussed, this is what you’re worried about?_

But Zelda, it appears, is not yet prepared to let the matter drop. “So you didn’t always know that you would be queen? Were you not raised for the role?”

The question strikes Midna as odd; she had never considered that other kingdoms might select their leaders in any other fashion. Clearly, Zelda had not considered that either. “Nobody really knows, do they, until they’re chosen? Someone could be bright and promising in their youth but end up a lunatic warlord, to give an entirely random example. It would be a terrible thing, to determine your next leader on the basis of their birth, wouldn’t it? I did grow up in the royal family, but any of its members or servants could rise up, if they have the skills.”

The other princess seems to consider this for a moment, twirling and twirling her hair around her finger again, Midna’s eyes following the movement. When she finally speaks again, her tone is thoughtful, but detached, as though discussing a mild academic debate. “My parents were king and queen, and I always knew that I would be queen, and that eventually I’ll need to have children to rule. It’s true that there have been bad rulers, ones who did not deserve the position that they were born into, but we’ve spent our whole lives preparing for it. We study history and diplomacy, economics and literature, anything that could guide us. Every moment of our lives is devoted to the kingdom.”

_No wonder you’re so tense._ Midna shrugs. “I suppose that makes sense, but I think I still prefer our system. It doesn’t involve any sort of marriage arrangements, at least.” Zelda groans, and pinches the bridge of her nose, eyes screwing shut.

“Well, thank your for listening, at least, Midna. I’ll admit, I was hoping you were facing the same problem, if only so that I’d have someone to commiserate with. But I am glad to hear that there is one less issue facing you.” She sighs. “I suppose I’ll have to write to my mother about it, she knows what it’s like. But I do not want to have a marriage like hers, and she wouldn’t want that either.”

“Wait, if your mother is alive, then why isn’t she the queen?” As soon as the question is blurted out, Midna fears that it had been rude, and far too personal, but Zelda does not appear offended, nor even surprised.

Her eyes open again, and she peers up at Midna with a wry, empty smile. When she responds, her tone is unusually cold. “She abdicated when my father died, several years ago. She put me in charge and went home.” Midna blinks in surprise, and Zelda lets out a humorless laugh. “It was a terrible scandal; it was considered indecent how quickly she left. But nobody was surprised she did it, she never felt like Hyrule was her kingdom, however long she spent there. I’m not old enough to be made queen yet, I’ll be coronated when I turn twenty-five… or when I wed.” She wrinkles her nose.

Beneath the disgust in her expression and the scorn in her voice, Midna can feel the lingering distress of the once-abandoned child, and softens her voice. “Does she know what’s happened? Does she know that there’s been a war, or your role in it?” The Hylian’s slight frown answers for her, and Midna quickly moves on, unwilling to continue dwelling on the pains of the past. _Why did she tell me this? What good does it do to drudge these matters back up?_

“Let’s get out of here,” she says briskly. “We’ve been at this for long enough, I hope your guards haven’t stormed the Mirror yet to bring you back.” With that, she raises an arm and teleports the pair back to her palace, where they land in the plaza that they departed from.

They remain quiet, until they pass the Sols resting in their shrine, and Zelda stops walking. She gazes thoughtfully at them, then up at Midna as she approaches. She speaks quietly, her tone gentle. “You know I’m here to help you, right? You’ve done so much for me and my kingdom, and it was because of us that you suffered so much. I hope you know you can trust me.” Zelda looks at her, her smile soft and encouraging, but it’s too much, and Midna can hardly meet her eyes.

_You’ve already given me too much. I was weak and you saved me, you gave me everything you had to do it, and that can never happen again._  “I know that. I do trust you, why else would I have brought you here, to my home?” The words taste too much like lies, and they hang heavy on her tongue as Zelda’s smile grows wider. It reminds her too much of Link, how easily he had trusted her, had followed her through every peril to the ends of the world. How she had come so close to getting away clean, to escaping back home without him ever having to find out who she really was, the truth of what Zant had done. He still smiled to see her after learning the whole story, innocent and hopeful as ever, but Midna could see the pity in his eyes when he thought she wasn’t looking.

Her words seem to be enough to satisfy the princess, however, who looks at her with a gentleness that almost stings. Against the cool darkness of twilight, Zelda stands warm and soft and gentle, entirely out of place, as unnatural as Midna had no doubt looked in the realm of light. She wants to look away, to wipe off that smile that she does not deserve, but she is anchored in place, and she’s drowning, drowning.


End file.
